Survivors
by TheKhajiitWarrior
Summary: The year is 2050, thirty years after the zombie apocalypse brought down modern civilization. Delphine is simply trying to survive in a world where zombies and humans alike are just as dangerous. When she saves a woman from her certain death she finds that having someone to watch her back might not be that bad. But only time will tell if the woman is her friend or her foe.
1. The Remaining

**Quick Note: This is indeed a Elder Scrolls FanFiction, but obviously a little different. It's set in a modern time (actually a little bit into the future, 2050 to be exact.) The main character is Delphine, and that's about it. Enjoy.**

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** Survivors**

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**Delphine POV:**

**August 13, 2020: A businessman in Moscow co****mes do****wn with a strange cough, but carries on with his daily life. He is later named patient zero.**

**July 19, 2021: Patient zero becomes bedridden.**

**July 20, 2021: Patient zero's infection reaches his brain, he becomes the first zombie.**

**January 17, 2022: The United States government begins project Survival to fortify cities against zombies.**

**March 11, 2022: The Survival project is complete, cities are fortified to house survivors and prevent zombie invasions.**

**October 25, 2024: Nations across the globe begin to fall.**

**December 22, 2025: The United States of America does away with any democracy, martial law takes full control.**

**June 10, 2050: All is destroyed. No hope in sight. Zombies outnumber survivors. This is the end of humanity.**

* * *

I close my journal, the family behind me jumping at every sound they hear. I can't help rolling my eyes. The family was huddled close to the border, and the father almost shot me when I approached them. My United States Secret Service badge is vertically worthless (our last real president was Hillary Clinton and her second term ended a while ago, so I don't really protect anyone anymore), but the family still demanded to see it. When they saw it they begged me to take them across the border to Texas (I was in Mexico looking for a supposed 'safe haven', the haven ended up being a hoax set up by bandits). I should have refused them, but I didn't. I was trained to help any person in the United States, and they were technically on the north side of the border. So, I helped them this far. But we're getting close to Brownsville. Brownsville was heavily populated, and the zombies are probably overrunning the town. I doubt there are even survivors.

I stop, turn back to the family, and point towards California. "California is that way. I hope you find who you're looking for.". The mother nods, whispers something to her children, and the family quickly leaves my presence. I adjust my Dragon Skin bulletproof vest, I'm sweating bullets beneath it due to the burning Texas sun. But I'd rather be hot than shot. My riot helmet is a little too big, but it works. The pants I'm wearing are thin, but they protect me from bug bites. My hiking boots are worn and fit my feet perfectly. The Sig Sauer 9mm pistol in my hand is loaded and ready, twenty magazines jingle around in my backpack. I lick my lips, put my gun in its holster (I remove the suppressor and place it in my pocket), and pull my canteen from my hip. I drink a few gulps of water, then put the canteen back on my hip. My stomach growls and demands food. My only source of food is half of a rabbit I killed yesterday.

I try to ignore my snarling stomach, but eventually I give in and finish off the meat. Oh well, I can hunt later. As I walk I pull out my map. There's a small hotel outside of Brownsville. The town is probably crawling with the undead, but the hotel seems far enough away. There might be a few zombies, but nothing I can't handle. Being a part of the Secret Service had a few advantages, and one of them is I can shoot a target almost perfectly from two hundred meters away. Most zombies are too slow or stupid to move very fast, so I can easily take out thirty per minute. The sun is setting, so I break into a light jog. A few buildings are off to my right, but I ignore them. I'm almost out of hearing distance when something catches my attention. I stop, listen, and hear it again. A scream. Damn it. I pull out my gun, slam the silencer on, and begin to run towards the scream. I reach the abandoned house, but the door is locked.

I stand back, kick the door in, and charge to the rescue. I nearly trip over the dead body, but correct myself and stay on my feet. A young woman is screaming, barely able to keep the zombie at arms distance. The creature has stumps where its arms were, but it's still snapping at the woman. I see a shotgun at her feet, but it's not doing her much good. I aim at the zombie's head, yell to get its attention, and blast the creature's head off when he looks at me. The body slides to the floor and the woman backs up, fumbling for her shotgun. I raise my arms up as she picks up her weapon and tell her, "Hold your horses, I'm not going to hurt you.". She looks terrified, but nods. Then, she starts fiddling with her gun. I can easily see why. Her pump action shotgun was made by Caracal, one of the shittiest brands ever. And, it's obviously been used by other people. The gun jammed, so she couldn't defend herself. The skinny, pale, auburn haired girl looks only sixteen or seventeen. Too young to remember a world without zombies.

I whistle to get her attention, her green eyes locking on mine. I ask her, "Were you bit or injured?". She shakes her head and I turn to leave, but she coughs to get my attention. I turn back around and she says, "T-Thank you. D-Do you want some food? My group-". She motions eastward, her hand practically shaking. She's stuttering and obviously nervous, but that may just be because she was nearly killed. I'm wary of trusting strangers, but the girl is too young to be a bandit. So, I nod and tell her, "Lead the way.". She turns around, begins walking, and adjust the silencer on her gun. As we walk she asks me, "W-What's your name?". I keep my eyes peeled and tell her, "Delphine.". She swallows and asks, "D-Do you want to travel with my group? There are only five of us.". I shrug and tell her, "Maybe.". But I have no intention of going with her group, I'm better when I'm working alone.

I ask the woman, "Why were you alone if you were with a group?". Her face turns red and she answers, "They sent me to go loot. My gun jammed when I tried to kill the zombie.". I nod in understanding. My gun is top of the line, so it never jams (well it hasn't so far). But her shotgun looks ancient and the brand that made it was known to cut corners. It's a miracle it hasn't blown up in her face yet. Then, the woman stops and whistles three sharp notes. I'm about to tell her she's going to attract zombies, but then I see four shapes moving towards us. I'm not sure where they were hiding, but they were well hidden. When they're all gathered the woman who I saved points at a tall, tanned boy and says, "This is Hadvar.". The brown haired boy blinks his blue eyes and nods. The red-haired girl points at a short, thick woman and says, "Hulda.". The woman nods, then the woman I saved points at a thin, black youth and introduces me, "J'zargo.". Finally, she points at a woman just as pale as her and says, "Uthgerd.".

She motions to me and says, "Delphine.". Hadvar twitches his hand in greeting, gives his group (I'm assuming he's the leader) commands, and motions for the zombie attack survivor to follow him. I hear the survivor and him talking (it seems he's not happy about her bringing me back), but they eventually resolve the conflict and come back over to the group. I sit by the survivor as the group huddles around the fire. I think the smoke will attract zombies, but J'zargo ignores my advice. He hangs some deer meat over the fire, then we all just sit there. I clear my throat and ask, "What city are you all from?". The 'Survival' project failed, but a few cities are still fortified. They're run by the 'army', zombies can easily get in, and the 'generals' are really tyrants, but a lot of people still live in the cities. Hadvar tells me, "New York, New York.". Hulda says, "Fort Worth, Texas.". J'zargo snarls, "Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.". Uthgerd happily announces, "Albuquerque, New Mexico.". I turn to the survivor and she exclaims, "St. Louis, Missouri."._  
_

Without thinking I tell her, "Go Cardinals.". She looks extremely confused and asks, "What?". I wave my hand and tell her, "Never mind.". I'm fifty, but the girl isn't even twenty. There's no way she could know that her hometown's baseball team's mascot use to be a cardinal. The girl simply shrugs it off and begins talking to J'zargo, the man grunting and nodding at the right areas. The sun is down by the time the deer is done, but I stay and eat it. The group falls silent as we devour the animal's flesh. When I'm done I move to leave, but Hadvar says, "It' dangerous out there. Sleep with us for the night, J'zargo will keep watch.". I really want to get going, but I'm tired. So, I nod, get out of my armor, and lie down to go to sleep. My gun is right beside me. I'm half asleep when the survivor curls up next to me. She probably feels safer around me. Her own mistake. I ignore her and go to sleep, tiredness seeping into my very bones.

* * *

I'm awoken by a blood-curdling scream. I bolt up, put on my armor, and prepare my gun. I blow five zombies heads off before I see Hadvar struggling to escape a group of them. I'm about to help, but his head is ripped off before I can do anything. I flip around and take in all the information I can. Hulda is in ten pieces, J'zargo is missing his head, and as I watch Uthgerd blows her own brains out (I'm not sure if it's because she was bitten or she was surrounded). I see an opening and run, but trip over a lump in the ground. I look over my shoulder and see the survivor huddled on the ground, silently crying. Oh god. She must have been all the carnage and gone into shell shock. I try to leave her to her destiny, I really do. But I find myself forcibly yanking the woman up, and eventually I simply carry her in my arms. The remaining zombies seem satisfied with their meals, but I still run as quick as I can.

I manage to find a highway, a car on the side of the road. There's no way in hell it'll start. The battery is dead, the wheels are rotted, and I can see the engine has been stolen. But zombies are nearly blind and use smell and hearing to find their prey, the car will hide our smell and noises. No scent or sound, then no prey. I yank open one door (thank god all the windows are somehow intact), and throw the woman inside. When I climb inside I lock all the doors manually, then realize why the windows aren't shattered. It's a government car (probably from Houston or Dallas), the glass in bulletproof and more durable than regular glass. It's been here for years (that's obvious), but it'll hide us from zombies. The woman lets out a single long wail before passing out. I catch my breath and close my eyes, I want a few more hours of sleep. I can only imagine how the woman will react in the morning.

* * *

I'm awoken by the survivor shaking me, her eyes still red from crying. I rub my head and ask, "Are you okay?". She nods and I tell her, "I'm sorry about your friends.". She looks almost embarrassed as she says, "They weren't really my friends, Hadvar just promised my dad he would watch over me. I think they were all getting sick of me, they sent me on the most dangerous missions and gave me the worst supplies.". I nod in understanding and tell her, "I suppose I can understand, but why were you crying?". Her eyes water up again and she admits, "When you found me I was fighting my first zombie. I've seen dead ones before, but that was the first live one I'd ever seen. Hadvar told me they came in hordes, but last night.". She shakes her head and continues, "I didn't know what to do. I ran out of bullets, everyone was dying, and the zombies were everywhere. I guess I kind of just accepted I was going to die, and lied down and cried so I wouldn't see it coming. Without you I would be some zombie's breakfast.".

She whispers, "Thank you.". I nod and tell her, "It's not a problem, I couldn't leave you behind. When humans turn against one another and leave each other for dead, then the zombies truly deserve to inherit this ruin we call earth.". A sudden thought hits me. I can't just leave the woman. She just told me she doesn't know how to fight zombies, her entire group just died in front of her eyes, and I've saved her life twice. How on earth would I tell her, 'Great job now get lost'? I couldn't. If I did than I'm no better than the mindless creatures that ripped Hadvar apart. So, I ask her, "Where was your group heading?". She clears her throat, pulls a map from her backpack, and unfolds it. She points at where we are and says, "We were going to go to Yellowknife, Canada. The fastest way was straight up, but those areas are heavily infected. We were going to go up to Branson, Missouri and swing over to Yellowknife.". Her plan actually doesn't sound half bad. Canada was one of the better prepared countries, they managed to evacuate eighty percent of their population before the virus that caused zombies hit them full force.

And, eighteen of that twenty percent were on Vancouver Island, the other two percent are scattered. I'm certain some zombies near the border have crossed over, but Canada is still relatively free of zombies. If I remember correctly Yellowknife and Whitehorse were completely evacuated. There might still be a few zombies, but it'll be somewhat clean. Unlike America, Canada didn't fortify their cities. So, Yellowknife won't have any people coming to it for a 'safe haven'. If Yellowknife ends up being a bust, then she could live in the wilderness. But the woman will never get there. She's too incompetent. I could shoot her brains out, steal her map, and be in Canada in two months. But the survivor is a good woman, and I'm not a monster. So, I tell her, "This is a good plan. In three months we could be there. Any idea how to get there?". She shrugs and says, "I thought we could just hoof it.". I don't see a better option.

I'm about to leave, but the woman grabs my wrist. She nervously tells me, "I dropped my shotgun.". I reach behind me, pop my machete from its scabbard, and hand it to her. She looks confused, but takes it. We climb from the car, determine which was is north, and start walking. We'll walk north until we hit the border of Texas, then cut diagonally. As we walk I ask her, "You have any idea how to kill a zombie?". She shakes her head and I ask, "How old are you?". She calmly answers, "Sixteen.". She's a lot younger than I thought. "How come you aren't safe in St. Louis?". She clears her throat and says, "Gang activity, tyrants for leaders, and Hadvar took me away.". I keep asking her questions. "Ever shot a gun?". "A few.". That's good at least. "Any skills?". She comes up with a small list and says, "I can cook, I know what's poisonous and what's not, the military taught me to drive a little, and I'm willing to learn anything you can teach me.".

At least she's willing to learn. I tell her, "You aren't stuttering anymore.". She blushes and says, "I get nervous around intimidating people.". I don't bother asking her to explain, I've been told I'm intimidating more than once. As we walk I feel the sun beat down upon us, my armor causing me to sweat like a pig. I look over and notice how weak my companion is. She has no armor, her weapon is melee, and she's young. If a ground of bandits attacked us they would either kill her first, or kill me before they raped and killed the younger woman. I'll have to get her a gun and armor to help prevent that situation. Suddenly, the woman asks, "How old are you?". I grunt and tell her, "Fifty.". She snorts and says, "No way.". When I nod she says, "I saw you taking off your armor last night, no fifty year old has a six pack.". I roll my eyes and tell her, "I have to stay in good shape to escape zombies.".

She scoffs again and tells me, "You're the fittest person I've ever seen, and that's saying something.". A thought seems to hit her and she gasps. "You were alive before the virus!". I nod. I was born in 2000, twenty years before patient zero was first infected. She seems excited as she asks, "What was it like?!". I roll my eyes and ask her, "What was what like?". She reaches over, pushes my shoulder, and asks me, "What was it like not to wake up in fear? To go to bed in a safe place? What was it like to have a mother and father? Did-did you have any friends?". Her questions seem a little personal, but I answer them anyway, "It was wonderful to wake up and go to sleep without fear. I remember complaining about not getting enough sleep. It seems so trivial now. My mother and father were good people. Thankfully, they were old and died before the zombie infestation started. It sounds mean, but I'm glad my mom and dad didn't have to go through this.".

"I had a few friends, but not many. What about you, what's your story?". I don't know why I care, but it's conversation for the road. We may both be dead by tonight, but we can enjoy ourselves for now. She clears her throat and says, "I grew up in St. Louis. The city is poor, in ruin, and someone gets infected almost every day. My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad was scanned for infection. He came up positive and a soldier shot him, but the official report said he might have been clean and the machine simply malfunctioned. So, the government raised me. I had one friend, but she said something about the wrong person and got her brains blown out. Sometime before he died my father wrote a letter to Hadvar. I guess Hadvar and him were close, and Hadvar owed him a few. I'm not sure how many, but enough for Hadvar to travel half way across the country, illegally snatch me from the city, and protect me until six hours ago. That's about it.".

We both fall silent, but we feel no need to restart the conversation. Only a few things happen throughout the day. The survivor manages to kill a snake, I shoot a lone zombie in the face, and we find another survivor. He trades me twenty pounds of beef for one magazine of bullets. I'm sure I got the better end of the deal. When the sun begins to set I tell the survivor, "Time to bunk down.". She nods and follows me off the side of the road. We're in the marshy area of Texas, so there are plenty of trees. I scale one quickly, the woman following me. When I reach a thick area where branches overlap I lie down, the survivor curling up beside me. It's not that cold, but it's not warm. I take off my body armor, allowing my sweaty body to cool down. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep, the survivor beside me. We'll never make it to Canada by walking. We need horses or a car. I'll talk to her about it in the morning, but for now I fall asleep and dream. I dream of a world where zombies don't prowl the night or people blow their own brains out to escape them. I dream of the past.


	2. Belton

I'm woken up by the survivor shaking me, her face an inch away from mine. I push her head away from me, sit up, and whisper, "What?". She points towards the edge of our makeshift shelter. When I crawl over I can hear the noise of a zombie horde, but I can't see them in the darkness. I'm guessing maybe twenty or thirty. Too damned many to take on. But there's nothing I can do. I crawl back over to where I was sleeping, lie down, and tell the other woman, "There's nothing we can do. Just go to sleep. The sun might drive them away or they might find easier prey.". She nods and looks concerned, but lies back down beside me. I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep, but it's no use. I can hear the zombies below us. The scrapping of broken limbs on the ground, hisses and grunts from open mouths, the scrapping of yellowed nails on the tree where we hide. It's too much. By the time they leave the sun is rising.

I sit up and see the woman looking up at the sky. I guess she couldn't fall asleep either. She sits up as I clear a small area in the branches we call our bed. The map I unfold is a closeup of Texas, showing every city, town, and highway. I have Texas, Kansas, and California. Only one of them has every helped me. The government originally gave me all fifty states (they wanted their own to survive), but I lost a majority of them. The woman points at Belton and says, "This is the closest city. Want to go to it?". Belton doesn't ring a bell, so it's probably a smaller town. Smaller towns mean less zombies, so we might be able to actually find some supplies. We don't have any food, my water canteen is almost empty, and my companion doesn't have a gun. If I said 'no' I'd be resigning us to death. I tell the woman, "We'll go examine the city a little bit, but we can't go too deep into it. Keep your eyes peeled and machete ready.".

I climb down from our tree, the survivor right behind me. When we're both ready to go we head northward, our weapons at the ready. The road stretches out in front of us, the eerie silence devouring us. About halfway to the city we pass a flipped car, the driver's skeleton still buckled in. We quickly examine the car and body, looking for supplies. He has a candy bar in his pocket, but bugs have gotten to it and it's past its expiration date. We find some 12 gauge shotgun bullets in the back, but not a single gun in all the vehicle. My companion left her shotgun at her old camp (it's too dangerous to go back and get it), but she still pockets the box of ammo. Who knows, we might actually find a shotgun in the town. As we walk I ask her, "Do you know how to use that gun you had?". She nods and answers, "I could use it well enough, but it bruised my shoulder every time I used it.".

I can easily understand that, shotguns have more punch that people usually expect. She twirls her machete and I snarl, "Don't do that, you're going to take off your hand.". She stops and mumbles, "Okay.". The woman might not like me giving her orders, but she'll survive longer. I ask her, "Is there anything you can't do? Can't kill a rabbit, can't eat a spider, can't kill a man, and so on and so forth?". She thinks for a minute, then tells me, "I'm afraid of water.". I correct her by saying, "You're afraid of drowning.". The survivor nods and agrees, "I suppose you're right.". Fuck. Of all the things in the world, she's afraid of something we might run into. If there's a river we need to cross, then I'll have to find a way to take her across. For some reason I can't bring myself to allow this woman to die. I've saved her life twice. And, she's so young. Someone as young as her shouldn't need to fear for her life.

A thought occurs to me and I ask her, "Do you want to return to St. Louis? It'll take a while, but in a month or two you could safely be in Missouri.". The woman stops walking and I turn to her, seeing the hurt look on her face. She tells me, "You don't know what it's like in there. It's chaos. Gangs rule the city, soldiers take and do whatever they want, starved children roam the streets begging for food, and the infected. The infected are rounded up and killed. Men, women, children. The soldiers don't care, they shoot them dead and throw the bodies into a giant pit. Please, kill me before you take me back to that hellhole.". I quickly apologize, "I didn't know it was that bad, I won't take you back. Come on, we have to get to Branson.". She lets out a small smile, but a sudden thought hits me and I pull out my map. I lie it on the ground, kneel beside it, and motion for the woman to do the same.

I ask her, "Do you know who leads you?". She shakes her head. I take some dirt and cut the United States down the middle, Missouri on the right side. I point at the left side and tell her, "Ulfric Stormcloak rules this side. He's stationed in California.". I point to her side and say, "Elisif the Kind rules this side. She's stationed in New York. She controls Missouri, and therefor St. Louis.". She looks at the map and asks, "Why doesn't she do anything? Does she know how bad it is?". I nod and answer, "She knows very well how bad it is, she just doesn't give a shit.".

"Ulfric is worse, he rules his people with an iron fist.". The survivor reaches out and gently traces New York, then asks, "Why have I never seen Elisif?". I know the answer and tell her, "Her citizens would tear her limb from limb. New York is the only area that likes her, so that's where she stays.". She whispers, "Why are you telling me all of this?". I fold up the map and tell her, "Enlightening you. You needed to know that everywhere is like St. Louis. Now come on, we're burning daylight.".

* * *

We reach Belton when the sun is high in the sky, baking the black road that we walk on. I check for bandits and zombies, then motion for the survivor to follow me. We enter the city by the main road, the shops lining the street. Dead human and zombie bodies litter the path. Someone's obviously been here before, but they're gone now. At least we don't have to worry about walking corpses. Probably. I still get my gun ready, and the survivor tightens her grip on her machete. We look at the stores (we can barely see the building's names) and choose one to check out. It's called _Randy's Pills. _A strange name, but it's obviously a pharmacy. We step inside through the busted window and see the entire place in ruin. We search around the place, but find almost nothing. I find a bottle of Tylenol, but it's twenty years expired. I toss it over my shoulder and keep searching, but come up blank.

Then, the survivor whistles and exclaims, "First air kit.". I rush over as she opens the box. We both groan when we see the kit is mostly empty. The few bottles and creams are either empty or expired, and only two rolls of bandages remain. The survivor pockets the bandages and tells me, "I don't think we'll find anything here.". I nod in agreement and leave the pharmacy, the red-haired woman right behind me. The next place we check out is _Red Onion. _It appears to have been a restaurant, but now it's abandoned. Well, almost abandoned. A zombie with the name tag _Clair _hears our footsteps and rushes to meet us. I roll my eyes, point my gun, and fire. The zombie moves at the last second and her shoulder gets blown up, but she keeps coming. I try to fire once again, but I see the bullet shell is only halfway out of the chamber. I scream, "FUCK!", then leap behind a table to fix my jammed gun._  
_

It's only when I hear a scream I realize I've left the survivor on her own. I leap back over the table and expect to save her life, but she's already swinging her machete. Clair moans as the weapon enters her skull, but falls to the ground and begins twitching. I walk over and clap the girl on the shoulder, nearly getting stabbed when I surprise her. She sighs in relief and says, "She's dead.". I nod and ask, "Anyone ever teach you about these things?". She shakes her head and answers, "The government told me it would never be important.". I crouch down beside Clair's body, motioning for the survivor to do the same. When she does I begin to teach her about our enemy, pointing at areas as I explain them. I point towards the dead eyes and explain, "When they regenerate into their full zombie stage, they remain trapped in a sort of rigor mortis muscle lock. They can walk, bite, and swing their arms, but that's about it. They can't close their eyelids, so their very eyeballs dry out. So, older ones are completely blind. But they can still find us.".

"We aren't sure why or how, but they can hear us clear as day. And, they've come up with a unique way to detect movement in their surrounding area. They hit objects such as walls and floors, listen to the sound bounce around the room, and if they sense something has moved since they last checked they attack it.". I point at the skin and tell her, "Bugs, fungi, and plants live and grow all over their body. They're like giant chunks of fertilized. They stand out in the rain and sun, so they're perfect for insects and vegetation to breed on. I speculate eventually they'll completely decompose, but not for decades. The virus is all over them and inside them, so don't _ever _try to eat their meat.". I point at the jaw, open the mouth to show her the teeth, and tell her, "Every human's bite can pack one hundred and twenty pounds of force per square inch, but there's a few problems. Our teeth are fragile, our jaws can't open wide, and it hurts us to bite down too forcibly.".

"Zombies don't feel pain, their teeth breaking don't bother them, and their jaws can open up wide enough to chomp down on our heads. The disease is transmitted by saliva, blood, and genital fluids. If you ever have sex with one let me know, I'll write it down in the history books. Don't swallow their blood or allow it to get into a open cut, that's about it. As for the saliva, don't get bitten. If you do, then cut off the limb as soon as you can. You might end up turning anyway, but at least you tried. If you end up just losing a arm or leg, then you can still live.". She pokes the corpse and asks, "What's the point?". I hum in confusion and ask, "What do you mean?". She locks her fear filled eyes with mine and asks, "What's the point of living? My friends were torn apart, civilization is collapsing, and the zombies seem stronger than any of us. What's the point?". I've contemplated this multiple times, so I quickly answer her.

"The point of living is what you make it. I live to help others, you can live for any reason. Even if it's as selfish a reason as simply not wanting to die, it's still a reason. You're young, you should still be in the school the government set up. It's shitty and bias, but it's still a education. You shouldn't be out here in this zombie infested world.". I see an ad under Clair's shoulder and pick it up. _Buck's Horse Ranch. No one breeds 'em better than Buck!_ Perfect. I show the survivor the flyer and ask her, "What do you think about getting a horse?". She stands up and tells me, "I think Buck's Horse Ranch is a mile from here. We can be there before the sun sets.". I stand and ask her, "What are we waiting for?". I lead the way out of _Red Onion_, the girl following me. For once we have a plan. I'm just nervous it'll get us both killed.

* * *

**Note: These notes seem to be coming faster and faster, but don't worry they'll end soon enough. This story has come along wonderfully, and it'll be over in a few chapters (seven at most). That may sound like a lot, but it'll be over before you know it. I loved giving my readers a chance to 'vote' for what story they wanted me to do next (when _Disgusting _was chosen). I didn't give much leeway with _Survivors, _but with the next one I can. So, I'm gonna spitball a few ideas, and I'd love to hear your opinions and any advice. We all know every Dragonborn I write is a Khajiit. And, I can always change my mind on the endings or plot halfway through.**

**Lydia/Female Dragonborn (Thane), Romance/Adventure. This one will follow the main story, then break off into the Blades. There will be a lot of curve balls, and I'm certain something bad will happen to one of the main characters (similar to what happened to the Khajiit in _The March). _It won't end badly, but it won't be rainbows and sunshine.**

****Argis the Bulwark/Male Dragonborn (Thane), Romance/Adventure. The story will deal with a plague in Windhelm, the risk of a psychotic murderer, and the civil war banging at the capital of the Stormcloaks. This one WILL end badly. No deaths. Probably. But no matter what the ending will be similar to _Thirst._****

**J'zargo/Male Dragonborn (Arch-Mage), Romance/Undecided. J'zargo finds his magical skills lacking (he made scrolls that nearly kill the Dragonborn, we know he isn't a professional) and wants the Arch-Mage to train him to better his abilities. But not everyone is pleased with that idea. Political squabbles and angered villagers threaten the college. This one will end rather happily, but I could always change my mind.**

**Brelyna Maryon/Female Dragonborn (Arch-Mage), Romance/Undecided. The Arch-Mage is suppose to be the best wizard in all of Skyrim, but finds herself unable to properly cast healing spells. The college's only trained perished during the final battle, but Brelyna knows a thing or two. She wishes to help the Arch-Mage, but the Khajiit's traveler lifestyle makes things difficult. And, not everything is as it seems. This one is going to end almost perfectly (rainbows and butterflies ya!).**

**Serana/Female Dragonborn (Vampire), Romance/Suspense. After Harkon died everything was suppose to be fine, but that's not the case. The Dawnguard is hounding the vampires, the court is ripping itself apart, and the vampire finds herself an incapable leader. Serana can help her, but first she has to get the vampire to trust her. This ending is currently in the air.**

**Durak/Male Dragonborn (Recruit), Romance/Undecided. The final battle was over, but both sides suffered casualties. Isran lies dead, the vampires are regrouping, and the Dawnguard is leaderless. Durak and the newest recruit can lead the Dawnguard to a brighter future, if the vampires don't kill them first. Ending up in the air.**

**Martin Septim/Male Hero of Kvatch, Romance/Tragedy. During the weeks before the Oblivion Crisis reaches its peak, Martin and the savior of Kvatch grow closer than most people would like to think. This one is obviously going to end badly (can't change the destiny of the Elder Scrolls).**

**Arquen/Female Hero of Kvatch, Romance/Suspense. After the tragic battle under The Lucky Lady, the Brotherhood must be rebuilt. But that can only happen if Arquen and the Listener work together. But only time will tell if something more blooms along the way. Probably gonna end badly, at least not happily.**

**Maven Black-Briar/Female Dragonborn, Suspense/Romance. Maven is looking for any chance she can get to claw her way up in the political world, and getting in good with the queen's lapdog is the perfect way. All she needs to do is make the woman fall for her, but everything might not go as planned. Ending is up in the air.**

**Farkas/Male Dragonborn, Romance/Adventure. This will follow the Companions quest, but with a twist. The twist will be violent and huge. Kind of like _Thirst, _but it'll go in a different direction. The ending will be even more depressing than _Thirst,_ so keep that in mind.**

**Finally, a sequel to one of my other works. Obviously not _Thirst_ (dead men tell no tale)or _The Queen and Her Cat_ (the ending is still being written, I can't think about another one right now). I would suggest staying away from _The Ends of the Earth and Back _(that story is rather old, and I don't see where I can go with it), but I think I could scratch something up if people want it.**

**That's it. I know I'm giving you a lot of options, but I hope a general consensus can be reached. The multitude of options is for a reason (I even reached out of Skyrim and to Oblivion), I want as many options as possible. Remember, the endings and plots can change at any second.**

**-KhajiitWarriorSam**


	3. Buck's Ranch

Buck's Ranch looks abandoned, but I can see a small farmhouse in the middle of the field. I leap over the wooden gate, then help the teenager over. We draw our weapons and look around the field as we walk, but we only see one far-off shape. If it's a horse we'll have a tough time catching him. In this world only the fittest survive. So, the horse is probably either extremely fast or extremely violent. We ignore the possible horse and enter the house, our weapons at the ready. But no zombies charge us. However, there is a body. I walk over to who I assume is Buck and examine him. His leg is snapped in two, a note too faded to read is beside him, and there's a bullet hole in his head. That's when I notice the shotgun laying across his lap. I grab the weapon, whistle, and throw it at the survivor. She happily snatches the weapon from the air and says, "Jackpot.". She hands me my machete and loads her new gun.

She looks at Buck and asks, "What happened?". I shrug as I look for supplies and tell her, "His leg somehow got broken, so he blew his own brains out. Nobody was going to come all the way out here to check on him, I don't see a speck of food around here, and he only had one bullet left. Seems to me that he did the right thing. A bullet is faster than starvation, infection, or zombie bites.". The woman looks upset at the answer, but accepts it and moves on. I manage to find bullets (apparently Buck couldn't reach them), some clothes that could fit me or the teenager, the survivor finds some rum in Buck's cellar, and the teenager finds some sugar in the kitchen. The sugar has been opened so it's in giant clumps, but it's still edible. We both pop some of the sugar into our mouths and go outside, looking for the shape we saw earlier. It's closer now, but we still approach it slowly. We aren't disappointed with what we find.

The stallion is dark as night, gigantic, and snorts at our presence. We try to walk up to him, but he trots away. I sigh, load my gun, and tell the teenager, "We'll have to do this the hard way.". I approach the stallion, and fire at the ground in front of him when he moves to flee. He screams, rears, and runs straight by me. I grab on to his mane and hop onto his back, the stallion rearing and attempting the buck me. I desperately cling onto his neck, but eventually he calms down. I pat his side, shush him, and motion for the teenager to sit behind me. When she manages to get onto the horse she wraps her arms around my stomach, practically shaking. I nudge the horse forward and ask her, "Something wrong?". She answers, "I've never ridden a horse before. Where did you learn?". I wrap my hands into the creature's man and tell her, "Ceremonies for the president. It was some old tradition that I had to ride a horse beside the president during their inaugural walk. I was trained to get it down perfectly.".

She nods into my shoulder and asks, "Why was this horse not taken? How is it still alive? Why was he so easy to catch?". I shrug and tell her, "Nobody probably wanted to come out here, so no one took him. His parents were probably fast and strong, but are dead now. He's a fast little bastard, so nobody could take him. I suppose he was easy to catch because he wasn't expecting anyone to try to catch him. Or maybe the nine are just watching over us.". I can tell there's a confused look on her face when she asks, "The nine?". I nod and tell her, "The gods our country followed before the zombie virus overcame us. We didn't have an official religion, but almost everyone followed the nine. The daedra were their opposites. Some people still think the daedra caused the apocalypse.". She grips my stomach tighter and tells me, "I was never taught that in school.". That doesn't surprise me.

After the collapse of humanity, religion was the last concern of the government. We reach the wooden fence that surrounds the field and I kick the horse in the sides, the stallion easily leaping the fence. As he trots along I tell the survivor, "We should reach the Oklahoma Texas border in a week. The horse will be exhausted, but we can push him fifty miles a day. He's in good shape, and we can rest when we reach Oklahoma. In Oklahoma I want to go to Oklahoma city. It's still fortified, and we might be able to steal some supplies. Then, we'll head to Missouri. That's about three hundred miles from the border of Oklahoma to the border of Missouri. We can push the horse again and arrive in another week. Remember that these are all estimates. Things change and plans can get ruined. Then, we'll cut through Iowa and Minnesota. Iowa and Minnesota will be roughly seven hundred miles. Push the horse and he'll die, so we'll take those states nice and slow. They were lightly populated, so only a small number of zombies will be there.".

"We can stop by fortified cities, loot towns, and trade with any other travelers. It'll take weeks to reach the Canadian border, but it'll be worth it. When we get in Canada I'll think of a way to get to Yellowknife.". The survivor asks, "How on earth do you know all of these distances and times?". I kick the horse in the sides and tell the teenager, "I had maps that told the distances, but I lost them. And, I'm kind of guessing. I could be completely wrong.". She nods into my shoulder, but screeches when something charges at us. I pull my gun from its holster and shoot the man point blank in the skull, and he falls without a sound. The horse keeps on trotting, never missing a beat (my silencer quieted the gun, so I guess that's why he didn't spook). I consider going and searching the man, but see no point. The teenager asks, "What was that?!". I shake my head is disgust and tell her, "A man desperate for anything. He's probably been tailing us, and just now decided to attack.". The survivor whispers, "Why?".

I shrug and tell her, "I don't know why he would. Maybe he thought we had supplies, wanted our horse, or simply wanted to kill. It doesn't matter, he's gone.". She grips my stomach even tighter and begins nervously looking around. I don't blame her, more people could be anywhere. The sun bakes us as we ride, the stallion beneath us running at blinding speeds. We're basically riding in the middle of nowhere, so no zombies bother us. We find a dead armadillo and manage to keep some on its meat, but that's about it. The beast beneath us is powerful, fast, and doesn't spook when other horses would. Near sunset I stop the horse, but face a major problem. Where can we sleep? The answer is, we can't. I tell the woman, "Tie your hands together around me, then try to fall asleep. We'll ride through the night, but I'll slow down a little for the horse. When the sun rises I'll wake you up and we'll switch places. Tomorrow night we'll look for a safe place where both of us can get some sleep.". She nods and pulls the cloth bandages from her pocket.

She ties her hands and tries to go to sleep, and soon enough I hear her snoring. This plan raises a ton of problems, but it's better than being defenseless in the night. If we get in a fight I have a woman tied to me, she's unconscious and won't wake up fast enough to help, and if the horse bucks us we're screwed. But if a zombie attacks I can ride away, the woman is going to be rested, and we aren't vulnerable. Riding at night is completely different and I have to be extremely careful. Rocks and holes could hurt the beast, zombies and bandits could lurk in the shadows, and if I get too far off course I could end up completely missing Oklahoma. I sigh at the thought of Oklahoma. We need to get to Canada if we want to live longer than a year (until recently I hadn't planned on living very long). The United States might seem small (if you think about it the distance to Canada isn't _too_ far), but on horseback it'll take forever. And, we have to avoid zombies, bandits, and fortified cities. If we get too close to a city we'll most likely be shot dead.

If we aren't shot we'll be captured, scanned for the zombie virus, and forced to join the city. I'll probably be assigned a military job and the teenager will be forced to rejoin school. If push comes to shove (we're filthy, starving, and dying) I'll ride to the nearest city and beg entrance. We'll be taken to a medical center, treated (not to mention charged), and rejoin the 'society'. I've considered returning to a 'normal' life many times, but from what the teenager says some cities are horrible. If I rode to Hollywood or New York I could find a decent life (the capitals of the two countries are bound to be good), but at what cost? We could never escape (I've no doubt the capitals catch anyone who tries to flee), I'd be assigned everything (a house, job, and scheduled retirement), and the teenager would be giving up her recently obtained freedom. I might go to a city when I'm too old to care for myself, but not now.

The sun is rising, the girl is waking up, and my stomach is growling. The teenager unties her hands, drinks some alcohol, and pops a piece of sugar in her mouth. She hands me the bottle, and a piece of sugar when I ask for it. She wraps up the bandages, shoves them in her pocket, and offers to take my place. We switch spots (quite a feat on a moving horse) and the teenager starts riding (I have to give her a quick lesson on what to do). I take the bandages from her pocket, tie my arms around her waist, and lie my head on her shoulder. Her shotgun is pressing against my front, but I ignore it and start to doze. Soon enough the rhythm of the horse beneath me, the warmth of the sun, and the breathing of the teenager have me falling asleep.

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

The horse snorts beneath me, barely able to keep trotting. It's mid afternoon and the creature has been running and trotting all day. We haven't seen a single zombie, bandit, or animal. I'm not sure what the Texas wilds looked like before I was born, but I'm sure they weren't this abandoned. The horse goes over a particularly hard bump and I feel Delphine yank back and slam into my shotgun. She doesn't wake up, but mumbles in her sleep. I'm glad to have a shotgun again, even if it isn't mine. It still creeps me out that Buck blew his own brains out with this gun, but a weapon's a weapon. I see a major city off to the west and stop, squinting to make out the gigantic sign above it. A rattlesnake and armadillo locked in a bloody battle. Antonio. I had to learn about the place in school. It's worse than St. Louis. I quickly kick the horse and pass the city. It's not until the sun is setting that I hear the screams.


	4. Oklahoma

I kick the horse hard in the sides and begin to ride towards the screams, Delphine waking up as the horse speeds towards the noise. I want to ride straight in and help the people, but Delphine breaks the bandages, grabs onto the horse's mane, and yanks. He snickers, rears, and kicks the air with his front legs. When he returns to all fours he shakes his head and whinnies, obviously upset about Delphine yanking chunks of his hair out. Delphine dismounts, yanks me off the horse (she also catches me and stands me up), and uses a dusty rope (where did she find that?) to tie the horse in place. Then, she motions for me to get down and follow her. I fall to the ground and crawl after her, careful not to get dust in my eyes. We crawl onto a small dune and look down the hill, a monstrous scene unfolding before us. Five people are being scanned by three soldiers (I know they're soldiers from their uniforms), but one person is on the ground screaming. It's obvious why, blood is pooling around him. He obviously fought the soldiers scanning him, and now he's paying the price. A slow death while his friends watch. I draw my shotgun from my back, but stop when Delphine places her hand over mine and shakes her head. I put the gun back. Probably for the best, I'd just get shot for my efforts. So, Delphine and I are forced to watch the scene play out.

The soldiers scan the citizens, shoot two of them, and drag the surviving citizens away. When the soldiers are gone we grab the horse and go down to the bodies, examining them for loot. We find a few rounds of 9mm ammunition, five cans of fruit, and a good hunting knife. Delphine gives me the knife and three cans of fruit, keeping the rest for herself. When the loot is divided we look at their clothes, and mix up our outfits. Delphine grabs a pair of gloves, changes her pants (hers are slightly torn), and changes her worn socks (she snatches the other pair when I tell her mine are fine). I change into some good shoes, grab a hat to protect my head from the sun, and take the woman's bra. When we're certain they're free of loot we remount our horse and ride away, making sure to remain silent. As we ride I ask her, "Why did they kill them? I didn't see a bite mark anywhere on their body.". My elder shrugs and says, "I'll never understand why people do anything, just accept that those people's deaths help us. We have a little more food, some more bullets, and better clothes.". I nod and tell her, "You can go back to sleep.". The woman shakes her head and tells me, "I'm too awake.". I nod again and ask her, "Where do you think those soldiers came from?". Delphine simply answers, "It doesn't matter, don't worry about it.". I try to take her advice, but it doesn't help ease my guilt at standing by and watching those people die.

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

We're at the Texas Oklahoma border when we stop, the horse near dead. Last night we thought we heard the soldiers, and we saw lights in the distance. We had no choice but to push the horse as hard as we could, the beast never stopping or getting rest. I think we lost the soldiers a while ago, but I don't want to take any chances. Once we cross the border the soldiers will lose interest, they only care about what goes on in Texas. When we're rested I want to go to Oklahoma City, but I know we won't be ready to go for a while. The horse looks ready to fall over and die, I feel like shit, and the teenager has bruise like bags under her eyes. I tried to get her to switch positions with me, but she refused. I dismount, catch the girl, drop her to the ground, and start sitting up for an extended stay. The shelter I form is crude, but it'll protect us from unwanted attention. It looks natural (it's a few piles of natural rubble hiding a dip in the ground), and is big enough to hide two people comfortably. Our horse will have to stay outside, but he has a bad temper and will kick anyone who isn't me (the teenager nearly lost her head when she walked by him). So, we aren't in danger of being sneak attacked. Zombies wouldn't survive in the middle of nowhere (no food), bandits won't come out this way, and soldiers wouldn't think to look here.

I make a fire, roast a bit of that armadillo meat, and take my canteen from my hip. I take a swig of the dwindling liquid, pass it to the younger woman, and put it back on my hip when she returns it. Only a few more gulps are in the canteen. We need water. Badly. It's looked about ready to rain since we looted the shot citizens, which is what scares me. A little rain can be wonderful, but a downpour could be our demise. It would get the horse sick, soak through our clothes, and rejuvenate zombies. The bastards seem to thrive in wet environments, hence why Florida is overrun with the living dead. I can only hope the rain is light or at least doesn't come at all. I take the armadillo meat, divide it, and kick dirt over the fire. Night is falling, and fire would give away our position. When we've eaten a dinner of gamy armadillo and disgusting fruit we go to bed, both of us curled away from one another. Maybe an hour later I feel the first drop of rain, and a few seconds later the second. I grumble, rise, and sit my opened canteen outside. The canteen is cube like, so it'll stand on its own and collect water. I elbow the teenager and ask her if she has a canteen. When she hands me the bone dry canteen I place it beside mine. Every drop helps. I close my eyes and easily fall asleep, gaining a well deserved rest.

* * *

I slowly wake up, a throbbing in my head. I rub my skull as I stand, examining our soaked horse. He's panting and barely standing, but he'll live. Hopefully. It'd be a shame to lose a treasure as valuable as a horse. The teenager is awake, sitting by the embers of our fire. I sit beside her and open my last can of fruit, the peaches and apples tasting like sawdust. I choke down my breakfast, retrieve my canteen, and take a few gulps. My stomach grumbles in anger at its breakfast, but I ignore it and take the teenager's canteen to her. She thanks me and takes a drink, her shoulder slumping. I give her a light kick, collapse beside her, and tell the girl, "Cheer up, we're done with Texas! Oklahoma is going to be ten times better, just you wait. Labor omnia vincit.". She throws me an odd look and says, "Were people crazy before the zombies or are you just a special case?". I can tell from her tone that she's joking (she doesn't sound happy, but at least she has the energy to poke fun at me), so I elbow her and tell her, "I'm just naturally crazy. Trust me, one day I'll teach you what labor omnia vincit means. And, I'll teach you a lot of things the government has shielded you from. World War One, World War Two, the Civil War, The Cuban Missile Crisis, the War in Afghanistan, the Gaza Wars.". She asks me, "How many wars were there?". I shrug and tell her, "Too damned many.". She throws a rock near her and says, "Seems like the zombies deserve to have this place.".

I turn towards the woman and say, "Okay, something's up. I've only known you for a little while, but I know this isn't like you. What's wrong?". She looks at the ground and answers, "We sat by and watched those people die. We're no better than the soldiers that shot them.". I crouch beside her, lay my hand on her shoulder, and tell her, "Those people knew that they might die when they left their city, but they did it. And you know what, it's better to die free than live trapped. If we had revealed ourselves, then we'd just be rotting corpses beside them. Or worse, we would have been drug back to the city and been forced to live like cattle. We might not have done the right thing, but we did the smart thing. Don't gnaw on it like a dog chewing on a old bone, nothing will change what we've done. Accept it, and move on. Live your life for those who can't.". She keeps looking at the ground, but nods. I'm not sure if what I said truly helps her. I hope it did. She rises when I stand up, and we make our way over to the horse. As we climb onto him I tell her, "We'll only go a few miles today, so the horse doesn't die and we still feel like we accomplished something.". She doesn't answer or nod, but I go ahead and assume she understands. I kick the horse in the side, our faithful steed flying into Oklahoma.

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

Delphine slowly guides the horse into the new state, the beast below us panting. The world around us slowly forms into a forest. Good, we might have better luck surviving here. We're only a mile or two into the woods when we stop, our horse about to collapse. Delphine gets off and catches me, then places me on the ground. I look around, but find nothing of interest. We set up camp early, but don't go to bed until late at night. I try to go to sleep, but the cold winds are keeping me up. The Texas sun was scorching, but this area of Oklahoma is a lot cooler. Within an hour I'm shivering, and roll closer to Delphine. The woman moves away from me, but I crawl closer. The pattern keeps going until Delphine comes face to face with a tree, and resigns herself to her fate. I curl up next to the woman, our body heat and my fat the only thing keeping me warm. After a little bit my teeth stop chattering and I'm able to go to sleep, Delphine right beside me.

* * *

**Note: ****As some of you might know, I write two stories at a time. My other story (_The Queen and Her_ Cat) is done, and I want to write another story. Last time I gave my readers the chance to vote on which one I would do next (choices were in chapter 2). But now there's a problem. There's a tie. I might end up writing both, but one's going to have to come before the other. So, here are the two choices. Fell free to review or message me your vote.**

**Maven Black-Briar/Female Dragonborn, Suspense/Romance. Maven is looking for any chance she can get to claw her way up in the political world, and getting in good with the queen's lapdog is the perfect way. All she needs to do is make the woman fall for her, but everything might not go as planned. Ending is up in the air.**

**Serana/Female Dragonborn (Vampire), Romance/Suspense. After Harkon died everything was suppose to be fine, but that's not the case. The Dawnguard is hounding the vampires, the court is ripping itself apart, and the vampire finds herself an incapable leader. Serana can help her, but first she has to get the vampire to trust her. This ending is currently in the air.**


	5. Berries

**Quick Note: The Maven Black-Briar/Female Dovahkiin ended up winning, so look out for that story. Also, shout-out and thanks to Dovazhul for that rocking Quislings idea, I absolutely love it! **

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

I slowly wake up, the teenager practically glued to my body. I can handle the cold, but it looks like she can't. Oh well, I suppose I can use a little more warmth at night. The blanket I use to have was destroyed a long time ago, so the teenager's body heat might just save me from freezing (when we get to areas much colder than this). I disentangle myself from the girl, stand up, and walk over to the stallion. He's still wet, shaking, and exhausted. We need to keep going (the woods are bound to be teaming with zombies), but we might kill the poor creature. I suppose we can hunt for game, gather berries, and build a better shelter. So, the horse will get to rest for a few days while we get necessary supplies. I wake the teenager up and tell her, "Get ready to use your gun, we're going hunting.". She nods as she stands up, taking her shotgun from the ground. When she's ready to go I tell her, "We aren't going to go too far from camp, so we might not see any animals at all. But if we do, then hit it hard, fast, and in the head. If it runs we can't follow it. It's imperative that we remember where our camp is, we _can't _lose the horse.". She nods in understanding, motions towards the woods, and tells me, "Lead the way.". I crouch down (the teenager copying my movements), get my gun ready, and start to go off into the woods.

I stop when I find a shrub about five feet tall that's weighed down with berries. I smell them (they remind me of clove), examine their black color, and notice their leaves are almost like gooseberry leaves. I come to the conclusion that the berries are buffalo currant, and collect a large amount in my bag. As I collect them I tell the teenager, "We'll have to let these dry in the sun, but they're perfectly edible. They grow all over Oklahoma, so expect to eat these _a lot_. Pick some and put them in your bag, every berry helps.". She takes my advice and picks as many as she can, the bush almost completely stripped when we're done. I motion for the girl to follow me and go back to sneaking through the woods, climbing a tree when I find a suitable one. The survivor follows me, but stays a few branches below me. I whisper to her, "We'll just wait here for a while, hopefully some animals will wander by.". It's not until a few hours later I hear the woman's shotgun go off (I realize I need to get her a silencer). I snap up and ask her, "What in oblivion did you fire at?". The teenager shoves her hand up and shows me a squirrel, his head nowhere to be found. I roll my eyes, but tell her, "Meat is meat, put it somewhere and keep it safe.". I'm not sure where the woman puts the corpse, but we both go back to waiting for something to walk by.

The woman and I see the deer at the same time, the buck's antlers tremendous on his head. I raise my pistol, and fire when I hear the shotgun go off. The deer tries to run, but I hit him in the neck and the teenager hits him in the head. He falls to the ground, but keeps twitching. We scale down the tree and rush to the dying deer, the teenager drawing her knife. She throws it at the creature and hits his heart, the deer giving one final twitch before going still. As we walk to the corpse the teenager says, "Woo. Teamwork. High-five.". She offers me her hand, but I simply roll my eyes. The girl scoffs and keeps her hand up, not caring that I'm ignoring her. When she doesn't ease up I groan, but lightly hit the woman's hand with mine. She shakes her head and says, "We'll work on it.". Then, we arrive at the deer and I can feel my heart jump into my throat. The beast's fur is missing and thinning in places, and the revealed skin is a strange hue of greenish brown. The teenager examines his head and tells me, "His eyes are cloudy.". She pulls the knife from his chest, a disgusting black blood gushing from the wound. The smell hits us and I gag, the teenager rushing a few feet away to empty her stomach. The smell of any dead deer isn't pleasant, but this one smells like he ate rotten cheese, died, and has been lying in the sun for a week.

When the teenager is done vomiting she stands, kicks the corpse, and ask, "What's wrong with it?". She must know, but she just wants her fears to be confirmed. I tell the woman, "I don't see a bite mark, so it could be something else.". She shakes her head and tells me, "He has the zombie virus.". I sigh and agree, "It looks like it. I don't think he would have attacked us if he'd seen us, but we can't eat his meat. And, we shouldn't drink any water in this area that isn't from our canteens. If a zombie died in a pool of water or a lake and the deer drank the liquid, then it would give him the virus. Now, we need to get back to camp. There could be a zombie somewhere around here, if there is I don't want to meet her.". I turn and jog away from the infected deer, the teenager nervously following me. It seems we arrive back at camp just in time, a man attempting to calm our rearing horse. I clear my throat and the man spins around, drawing his machete. His head is blown off before I can fire. Damn. The teenager seems to enjoy blowing the heads off things. At least if she turns against me my death will be quick and clean. We loot the body (he has a few cans of food, but nothing else of importance). The teenager throws the body into the woods and tells me, "We've run into a lot of people in a zombie filled world.". I shrug and tell her, "Be thankful for that, soon enough we'll run into zombies daily.". I lay the berries out in the sun, calm the horse, and begin building a shelter out of branches and large leaves. The teen proves useful.

She doesn't know what to do, but gathers a lot of supplies. When a small shelter is built I tell her, "It's getting dark and we need to get some rest. Tomorrow we'll ride to Oklahoma city, I don't want to stay in this area any longer. That okay with you?". She looks shocked I asked her opinion, but she nods and agrees. When I climb into the shelter I make sure to take up as little space as possible, but the teenager curls up beside me. I inwardly sigh, but allow her to sleep by me. She's a child, she finds nothing weird about sleeping next to a stranger who's old enough to be her mother. In the cities they don't teach kids what's morally right and wrong, so the children develop their opinions on their own. What some people think is right others think is wrong. The teenager grew up in a poor city, so her moral compass is probably flexible. And, she was probably never taught why she shouldn't just go to sleep beside a woman she doesn't know. If I wanted to kill, rape, or steal from her I could do so as she slumbers on (she'd wake up for the first two, but I doubt she could stop me). In her mind she's probably just doing this for warmth. In a different situation she might realize how vulnerable she is while she sleeps, and not want to curl up next to me. My mussing is cut off as I fall asleep, the teenager beside me already snoring.

* * *

The teenager keeps her shotgun drawn as we silently ride through the woods, our horse slowly trotting below us. We haven't seen a single zombie or bandit, which is what's worrying me. But I don't have time to voice my concerns, Oklahoma City is rising up before us. I've been in the city five times, and it's decent enough. The security is absolutely terrible (hence why I was easily able to sneak in and out), but the teenager will need my help. If we're caught I'll be shot (my data won't show up in the computer, and they'll assume I'm a bandit), and the teenager will be shipped back to Missouri for a small reward (an armored truck will carry her and any other prisoners headed for the plains area of the country). I don't want to imagine the punishment she'll go through if St. Louis ever gets her back. I dismount the horse, hide him in thick vegetation, and tell them woman, "Follow my lead, get ready to shoot, and always get ready to die.". She nods and follows me to the abandoned area of town outside the walled city. As we walk through the abandoned town I tell her, "The city is only half its original size, this is the area people fled from. There's a school up ahead that's half in the city and half out. It's technically abandoned, so it's been locked down to prevent zombies from entering the city. Since we're going there it should be pretty clear that isn't true.".

When we reach the school I walk over to one of the 'armored' windows, yank the metal away and tell her, "Go.". When she's inside she holds the metal away from the wall, so I can climb in. When we're inside I tell her, "It's pretty damned dark, and I forgot to bring a flashlight or anything. Damn. I didn't think this through.". I feel a hit to the back of the head and the woman says,"Give me a sec, I need to find a branch or something.". After a minute of two I see a small flame bloom, the teenager holding a makeshift torch in her hand. She takes another branch, lights it, and hands it to me. I begin guiding her through the school, the teenager telling me, "Prepare better next time. If I hadn't found branches, then we'd be screwed.". Her mocking is interrupted by a black shape charging at us, and our two guns almost instantly go off. The creature falls and we jog over to it, our guns still at the ready. His head is intact, but his chest is a bloody mess.

The teen curses and says, "He wasn't a zombie! Why the hell did he charge?!". I know exactly why, but I delicately explain it to her, "Some people try to do what you and I are doing, surviving outside the cities. But they end up not being able to handle fighting zombies, and snap like a twig. They think they got bitten, and even think they're going through the phases of infection. Like a woman going through false pregnancy. When it's over they act like real zombies, only slightly more intelligent. They can use clubs and stones as weapons, eat people they kill, and somehow manage to survive. They're dangerous, and should be treated like real zombies. Remember that. I thought I was the only one who knew how to get in her, but I can see that isn't true anymore. The place is probably crawling with zombies, real and fake.". She looks disgusted at the body, but nods and follows me into the school. The building practically screams danger, but what else can we do?


	6. School

We slowly walk through the halls, remnants of the past occasionally showing up. A textbook long forgotten that I give to the teenager (it's a history book. The pages are faded, but she might learn something), some pencils and pens that I push to the side with my foot, and a school spirit poster showing a winking lion. I'm extremely on edge because of the entire situation. Classrooms can hide all sorts of dangers, but we can't check every one of them. So, we're forced to walk down the hallways with unchecked rooms behind us, in front of us, and at our sides. The light from our torches only reveals a few feet, so we're essentially walking in darkness. Every creak and groan of the building settling makes me jump, the teenager is all but glued to my side, and I'm terrified. I've done this before, but not like this. Not when it really matters. If I got caught before, then I would have been shot or eaten. One clean bullet to the head or bite to the neck. I wouldn't have felt a thing, and my body would have simply been burned or eaten. Now I have the teen to watch after. I can't die knowing that she's going to be hurt or captured. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a shuffling up ahead. I crouch down and crawl forward, nearly falling into the cafeteria. The lunchroom of the school has sunken into the earth, creating a twenty foot drop to the floor.

That definitely wasn't there before. Then, I hear the shuffle of footsteps and see the flicker of flashlights. I hear the girl whisper, "Soldiers.". I shake my head and whisper, "Savages.". Soldiers wouldn't come inside a condemned building. They're survivors just like us, but there's a huge difference. They would try to kill us the second they saw us. They're filthy squatters who live in buildings like this (not too far away from the city), shoot anyone who doesn't live in their fucked up society, and resent anyone better off than them. In essence, they're like bandits, only worse. I can tell there's roughly three of them. Not a lot, but I still don't want to take the change of the teenager getting hurt. I tell the girl, "Stay here.". She nods and I slowly crawl down to the cafeteria (leaving my torch). When I'm on the ground I load my gun, and begin hunting the hunters. I manage to hide behind the tables and slowly make my way to them. It's extremely dark, but shattered windows in the roof allow moonlight to shine into the cafeteria. When I'm close to them I realize there are four of them, but I can still kill them. They're talking about hearing guns going off, but can't decide what to do. I smile, aim, and fire. One falls, her head blown off. I'm starting to realize what's so satisfying about seeing an enemy's head splatter across the floor. They all pull out their weapons and get ready to fight, but I shoot another one. My silencer muffles the sound, and the cafeteria causes an echo. So, they have no idea where I am.

The remaining two spread out, yelling to each other as they search. I keep moving, using anything I can as cover. Then, one walks right by me. I hold in my gasp as he yells, "Clear.". I smile, pull my dagger from my boot, and sneak up behind him. I leap onto him, stabbing his throat. He gargles as he dies, but the last savage can't hear it. The last one yells, "Clear.". After a few moments she begins to panic, the lack of response obviously not good. I keep sneaking around, scanning for the person. But she finds me before I find her. I feel her boot connect with the back of my skull, my nose breaking as it hits the ground. I flip around, fire, and curse when I realize I missed. My opponent kicks my gun out of my hand, jamming my thumb into its socket. I howl in pain, but the woman leaps on me. Her knees dig into my ribs as her fingers curl around my throat. I hiss, begin struggling, and try to reach for my gun. It's no use. I'm gasping and weakly kicking when I hear a shot go off. The woman rolls off of me, grasping her side. I take in as much air as I can, quickly standing up and looking around. The teenager is standing a few feet away, her shotgun shaking in her hands. She points it at the woman's head, but stops when the woman screams, "Please! Don't kill me! I don't want to die!". The teenager slightly lowers the gun, torn.

Then, the savage desperately attempts to stand up, cursing. My companion's gun is shaking, her eyes trained on the woman. The savage stands, blood gushing from her side. She's doomed to die. We both know that, but the teen is in the dark. She still lives in a world where the remains of our government like to assure her they can heal all wounds. The savage reaches for her gun, and the teen fires. The woman falls to the ground, her head nowhere to be found. In an instant the teenager drops her gun, her hands shaking. I quickly catch her as she slides to the floor, putting her head in her hands. I shush and rock her as she keeps shaking and gasping, ignoring my own injuries. I advise her, "Deep breathes. In and out.". She tries her best, but keeps panicking. I can understand why. She's killed zombies and bandits, but never someone who begged for their life. In the world we live in we're forced to do shitty things, but it's always hard to kill someone who so clearly doesn't want to die. It must be even harder for her because of her age. I try to calm her down by telling her, "She would have killed you if you didn't kill her. Everyone begs when they see death, but she wanted to cause yours.". It doesn't help at all. The only thing I can do is keep holding and rocking the teen as she freaks out, my younger obviously overcome by grief at taking the life of someone who begged her not to.

Eventually she calms down, but keeps sniffling into my shoulder. I pat her back and ask her, "Do you want to keep going?". She nods and slowly gets to her feet, her shotgun laying on the floor. I quickly pop my nose and thumb back into place, the girl slowly stumbling away. While the teen walks away I pick up her gun and strap it to my backpack. She'll want her gun back eventually, but not right now. I catch up to the teenager, I need to make sure she's safe. We reach the other side of the cafeteria and we're forced to climb. When that's done we walk down the halls, my torch lost. I'm not sure where the teenager put hers, but she has it out and it's still burning. It's the middle of the night, so that tiny flame is all the light we have (the windows in this area are covered in steel plates). We'll have to get out before the torch goes out. I ready my gun, look to make sure the teenager is okay, and tell her, "On the count of three we run. Just to the end of the hall. Ready? One. Two. THREE!". We both sprint the distance, our footsteps echoing across the entire school. If the zombies didn't know we were here, then now they do. We stop at the end of the hall, the exit only three more corridors away. I catch my breath and tell her, "Follow me.". I slowly turn the corner and walk down the corridor, but stop dead in my tracks. A single zombie stands in the middle of the hallway, twitching and groaning. He stumbles towards us, sniffing. The teen seems to realize she's disarmed and snatches her weapon from me. When she aims it I shake my head. Our guns are too loud. I pull my machete from my backpack, crouch down, and begin sneaking up on the zombie.

I swing in one swift motion, his rotten head falling to the side. I stand and motion for the teenager to resume following me. The next corridor is free of real zombies, but two psychos are eating something that disturbingly looks like a human corpse. It appears the idiotic zombies accept the fake ones without questions. I once again crouch down and whisper to the teen, "We're going to sneak past them.". As we sneak by them I notice the corpse is indeed a rotting human. When we're past them I slowly turn into the next corridor, always making sure the teenager is right behind me. When we reach the windows I whisper, "I'll lift it up, you go through.". She nods and I lift the steel plate away from the wall, silently cursing at the screeching sound it makes. I hear the chewing of human meat stop, the psychotic people must have heard the noise. When the teen is through I shimmy through the opening, the teen holding it open from the other side. When we're inside the city I clap her on the shoulder and tell her, "Good job. Now we only have to do that one more time.". She groans when she realizes we'll have to go through the school again to leave the city. I tell her, "We should probably get to the inhabited areas of the city. We're inside, but soldiers might question why two citizens are hanging around a condemned building.".

Before we leave we hide our weapons and survival gear, normal citizens wouldn't have that kind of stuff. When our supplies are hidden I walk towards the city, my younger happily following me. As we walk I tell her, "I know a nearly abandoned building in the city where we can stay while we get supplies. Do you have any money? I don't feel like stealing.". She digs around in her pocket and comes up with fifty bucks. I nod at the money and tell her, "Keep that close. It's not much, but it could be the difference between life and death.". She nods and shoves the money back in her pocket. I want to talk to her, but now we're in the city. It's past lights out, but there aren't any soldiers in the area. When we're in the building I tell her, "I'll lock the door, but don't feel too safe. Violence in this area of town is common.". She shrugs and tells me, "It can't be any worse than St. Louis.". I suppose not. The room I choose is small, but it has more furniture than most. One bed, one couch, two lamps (the electricity hardly even works though), and one sink. I lock the door, jump onto the couch, and tell my companion, "You can have the bed.". She quickly says, "Thank you.". Then, climbs into bed and pulls the covers over her. I close my eyes, but hear the teenager whisper, "Good night.". I hesitate, but in the end I whisper back, "Good night.".


	7. Canned Meat

I'm woken up by the survivor screaming. In one swift motion I'm standing up, my gun drawn and ready. But there's no enemy to fight, just the woman trashing in her bed. I throw my gun on the couch and rush over to the woman's side, shaking her awake. The teenager snaps up, her shirt wet with terror sweats. I'm not sure what to expect, but it's not the teen reaching out and tightly wrapping my head in her arms. I ignore the fact that my face is pressed against the teenager's budding breast, and ask her, "What's wrong? I heard you screaming.". I think I already know, but I want her to confirm it. The teenager gasps and tells me, "I had a nightmare about that savage.". I pull back, nod, and ask, "Is there anything I can do? Do you want anything?". She rubs her throat and asks, "Can I have a glass of water?". I nod, rise, and make my way to the sink. I pull my canteen from my hip, fill it up, and bring it to the teenager. She thanks me and happily gulps down the liquid, water dribbling down her chin. The girl wipes her mouth and hands me my canteen, the container already half empty. I ask the survivor, "Is there anything else? I can go find some food if you want any, or maybe another blanket.". She shakes her head and tells me, "No, thank you." I pat her thigh and move to go to the couch, but her hand on mine stops me.

The woman gulps and quietly asks, "Can you sleep with me?". At first I think she's asking me to have sex with her, but then I realize she literally means sleep. I'm confused why she wants me to, so I ask her. She looks embarrassed and tells me, "My stepmother use to sleep with me when I was little and I had nightmares about zombies. Please.". I can see the pleading look in her eyes, so I tell her, "Move over.". Her face lightens up and she scoots over, allowing me room to slide in behind her. When I'm under the covers she takes my hand and wraps it around her waist, then snuggles up to me as close as she can. When she's settles it's more of a lover's embrace than something a stepdaughter and mother should do. Then, a sudden thought comes to mind and I ask the survivor, "Is this how your stepmother use to sleep with you when you had nightmares?". She nods as she yawns, obviously tired. I clear my throat to wake her up and ask her, "Did you have a lot of nightmares when you were little?". She once again nods, but tells me, "Yeah, but my mom would sleep with me sometimes to fend off the nightmares.". I tell her, "Oh. Well, good night.". The teen must have heard me, but goes to sleep. I allow her to fall asleep, but make a mental note to talk to her about the stepmother thing later. I slowly close my eyes.

* * *

I'm woken up a second time by the teen shaking me, trying to get my arm off her. I move my hand and ask her, "What's going on?". She quickly gets up and tells me, "I had to pee.". I roll my eyes and go back to resting, enjoying the warmth of the bed. My dreams were uneventful, but now that I'm awake I remember the stepmother thing. I don't open my eyes as I ask the woman, "What was your relationship with your stepmother like?". The survivor answers, "Just the average relationship I guess. She was nicer than I would have originally thought, but I'm not complaining.". I hum to show I'm listening, but I'm unsure of how to ask her if her stepmother did anything inappropriate to her. The woman is probably long dead, but I don't want the teenager to think it's normal for older woman to just start fondling her genitals. If a corrupted soldier got a hold of her and did something to her, then she wouldn't tell me and would just assume it was normal. But I don't want to start a fight with the woman, so I file the issue away for later and ignore it for now. When the woman has relieved herself she comes back to bed, curling up next to me. I sigh in content and allow myself to enjoy the warmness, security, and feeling of completeness that surrounds me. I don't know why, but I have a sudden urge to join the community.

Then, I remember what that means. Working at a job I hate, I can be shot at any moment, and food is easier to come by out in the wilds. Cities don't just mean a warm bed and a roof over my head, they mean giving up everything to the people above me. I can't do that, and I won't force the teenager to. If it was our last option, then I might consider it. But right now we have the world in our hands, and the city would ruin all of that. Speaking of which, we need to get out and get supplies. I whisper to the teenager, "We need to go get supplies.". She nods and tells me, "We could always just rest here. Just for a little bit.". I sigh and say, "Just a little while will turn into an hour, then an hour will turn into two. And, before you know it, it'll be afternoon.". The teen doesn't answer, but snuggles in closer to me. I allow it, and I suppose a few more hours of rest can't hurt.

* * *

I walk through the market, the teenager grasping my hand like a small child. The place was crowded a few blocks back, and the girl grasped my hand to keep from losing me. I'm not exactly sure why she hasn't let go, but I'm not questioning her. I allow her to keep grasping my hand while I look for supplies. Then, I spot a food stand and stop. Most of their supplies are raw meat, but I see a few canned meats. I walk over, ask him a few questions (the meat last for years), and buy twenty cans of meat for five bucks. It's a bargain, but I think I know why it's so cheap. The man who sold them looked filthy and afraid of everything. He obviously needed money desperately, and wanted to get it as quick as he could. Then, I realize I don't care why and silently celebrate getting suck an amazing deal. We find some canned fruit, but the price is too high and we can't afford it. We manage to buy some more shotgun ammunition for five dollars, eighty more cans of meat for twenty dollars (we're sufficiently full on food), ammunition for my gun for ten, and two first aid kits for ten dollars. As we're walking back to our home I tell the teen, "These are amazing deals, I wonder why all of this was so cheap.". The teenager shrugs and ask, "Do you really want to question it?". I smile and say, "I suppose not.". Then, we're back at the apartment.

We put all our supplies in a safe place, sit down, and relax. The teenager throws me a can of _Dragon Meat _and takes a can of _Unicorn Meat _for herself. We pop the tops and groan, the smell of canned meat is never pleasant. We bend the tops into makeshift spoons and dig in. I taste the meat and tell the teenager, "Beef or pork.". She takes a bite of her meat and says, "Tuna or salmon. Weird ass brand name.". I scoff and tell her, "And _Dragon Meat _makes so much more sense.". She swallows her mouthful and says, "At least a dragon might taste like red meat, why the hell would unicorn taste like fish?". I let out a small laugh and answer, "We don't know what a unicorn might taste like, it might end up tasting like turkey.". The teen's face twist and she says, "I'm allergic to turkey.". I swallow the pork in my mouth and tell her, "You should have told me. I would have made sure none of the meat has turkey in it. Do you have any other allergies?". She nods and answers, "Peaches. And, I checked the ingredients. The unnamed cans with the cow on them have turkey in them.". I laugh and ask, "Are you serious?". She nods and I tell her, "You're shitting me.". She laughs and tells me, "I swear to god, the cans with the cows on them have turkey inside. The cans with turkey have dog in them.". We both share a laugh.

Then, I take another bite of meat and tell her, "I think this is the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten.". The survivor shrugs, takes a bite, and mumbles, "I've put my mouth on worse.". I pretend not to hear that, and tell her, "Expect to be eating canned meat for a while. It's not a tasty breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but we'll survive. I actually think we're ready to leave.". The teenager nervously looks at the ground and asks me, "Can we stay here just a little longer? I like not having to worry about dying.". I smile and tell her, "Of course. Now come on, we need to go to bed.". I rise and prepare to make my way to the couch, but the teenager nervously clears her throat, and when I turn around she's shuffling from foot to foot. She gives me a nervous smile and motions to the bed. I smile and climb onto the flattened mattress, the survivor climbing in beside me. She curls up in my arms facing me, her face pressed against my breast. I whisper, "Sweet dreams.". She whispers back, "Don't let the bedbugs bite.".

* * *

The horse is dead when we find him, his throat ripped out. The second I see that I know it's not safe to be around here, and the teenager and I rush back to the city. So, here we are. Sitting in our new apartment, our supplies stacked in the corner. The teen has her head in her hands, and I have my arm thrown over her shoulders. She whispers, "What are we gonna do?". I whisper back, "I don't know.". The teen turns and wraps her arms around my middle, nuzzling her head into my armpit. I inwardly sigh and hug the teenager, comforting her. I tell her, "I have a faint idea of what we can do, but you aren't going to like it.". The teen looks up and ask, "What?". I quickly relay the extremely dangerous plan to her. I expect her to reject it, but instead she smiles and says, "Let's do it.".


	8. A Plan

I walk down the streets in the most decrepit area of town, the teen right behind me. Then, I see what I was waiting for. A single guard patrolling, his gun in its sling. The teenager knows what to do, and stands guards as I crouch down and follow the man. He's a little bigger than me, but his uniform can fit me. I pull a knife from my pocket, lie down on the ground, and scream at the guard for help. In an instant he flips around, and comes rushing over to me. He crouches beside me and asks, "Citizen, what's wrong? Were you-". The rest of his sentence is a gargled mess as I slash his throat, a small unarmored area allowing me to kill him. I quickly push his head back, so his blood doesn't stain his helmet or shirt. I manage to stand, get behind him, and wait until he's done bleeding. Then, I quickly trade our clothes. He looks a little strange in my armor, but I look fine in his. I'm buckling the helmet on when I hear the rush of footsteps, and another guard appears. She looks at the body and asks me, "What happened?". I wave at the body and tell her, "Infected.". She nods and says, "Dump the body and don't be seen, you know the drill.". The guard turns to leave, but notices the teenager. She sighs, takes out her gun, and says, "Looks like we got another straggler.". The guard aims, but I stop her by saying, "She's with me, don't worry.".

Her covered head cocks to the side and she questions, "Why on earth did you approve of a citizen following you during your rounds?". I quickly think of an excuse and tell her, "She's considering joining the guards.". The woman goes 'oh' and says, "That's fine, but next time send her to the central office.". I nod and apologize, "Sorry, I'll do that next time.". The soldier claps me on the shoulder and leaves, stepping over the corpse of her fellow. I sigh in relief and rush back to the teenager, my fellow nearly pissing herself when she sees me. I wave at her and explain, "It's me, now come on.". I open my map of the city (the guard had a map in his pocket) to check I know where I'm going, and begin heading to my destination. When we reach the prison I once again stash the teen, then walk inside the building. There's simply one guard standing in the building, and he quickly leaves when I tell him that he's relieved. Three prisoners are in the cell, but I only need one. I point at one that's the teenagers size and tell him, "Step up to the bars.". When he does I get the keys (they were right beside the cell), open the door, and yank him out. When the door is slammed shut I yank out my knife, slit his throat, and take his clothes. Then, I point my gun at one prisoner and shoot her in the head. I turn to the last remaining prisoner and tell him, "Your buddy in there snatched a knife and slit this guy's throat. I shot the killer, removed the body of the victim, and took his clothes for evidence. Understand?". He quickly nods, terrified.

I leave as quickly as possible, our plan becoming extremely dangerous from here on out. The teenager quickly changes clothes. I can't help noticing a large scar across her stomach (as if from surgery), but I decide now isn't the time to question her about the scar. While she's changing I fiddle with my uniform. A black bulletproof vest with a few pockets, black bulletproof pants, black hiking boots, black gloves (damn, the designers apparently don't know any other color), a black helmet, and a black utility belt that has a thousand different pockets, tools, and zippers. When the teenager is dressed in her ragged shirt and pants I pull some handcuffs from my belt and cuff her hands behind her back. I tell her, "Look afraid, don't speak, and don't get separated from me.". The survivor nods and puts her head down, allowing me to walk her towards the north end of town by her shoulder. The only people out this late at night are guards, and they don't give me two looks. When we reach the transportation center I hesitate, but eventually go in. The transportation center is where official government vehicles enter and exit the city, the vehicles carry food, medicine, and prisoners. The roads are terrible, but most of the cars are built like tanks. Airplanes and helicopters are rarer (due to lack of trained pilots), but I see a few in the hangers. I even see a few boats jammed in a corner. But none of those reasons are why we're here.

I walk the woman near a exit center (areas where vehicles are ready to go, and where metal doors open to allow them to leave), and over to the official who controls the gate. He looks at us and instantly questions, "What in the hell are you doing?". I tap the woman on the shoulder and tell her, "One of Elisif's better spies, and her ransom has just been paid. Someone high up was suppose to bring her to New York, but somehow I got stuck with it.". He nods and simply says, "I ain't calling you a liar, but I need to see some ID.". I pretend to dig around in my pockets and belt, curse loudly, and tell him, "I left it in my locker. Come on, let me through. I don't want to head back. It's a simple prisoner transport.". He considers it, but tells me, "I really need some ID. These cars aren't cheap, and I need to know that you can drive one. And, an official needs to approve of these kinds of transfers.". I groan and keep begging, "Come on, I know how to drive one of these. Elisif said she wouldn't give us the money unless we got the prisoner to her in a week. That was four days ago, I'm on a tight schedule.". He sighs, considers it, then notices our backpacks. He asks about them and I answer, "Some food and shit the prisoner had. Elisif demanded everything the prisoner carried be returned to her. Security checked it and it's nothing bad. Now come on, I need to get this prisoner to New York.".

He groans, but tells me, "Be careful, and be back in four days. Now just give me the official report of the situation, and I'll give you the keys.". Damn, I forgot about a report, but an excuse comes quickly enough. I once again groan and tell him, "I wasn't given the report, my commander just gave me the prisoner. Please, just let me through! I'll be shot if I don't get this prisoner there in time.". He breathes in deeply, holds it, then lets it out in one violent burst. He hands me the keys and says, "Three days and no later, or I'm gonna shoot you when you get back.". I thank him repeatedly as I put the teen in the back of the armored car. When she's inside I lock the door, go to the driver's seat, and give the soldier a thumbs up. He unlocks the door, the gigantic metal screen sliding to the side. I slam my foot on the gas, the car speeding away from the city. I slow down when we're away from the city, slightly turn my body, and unlock the inside door to the prisoner's cell. The teen falls through the door and slams it shut behind her with her head, and when I lock it she sits beside me. Our bags are in the right seat, the teen is in the middle, and I'm in the driver's seat. I use one hand to take the cuffs off, and throw them to the side. The teenager rubs her wrists, then whispers, "We did it.". I smile and whisper back, "I guess we did.".

The teen lets out a noise of celebration, moves our bags to the floor, and lies down. Her legs are curled up, but her head still rests on my shoulder. I keep driving, the abandoned area ahead of me stretching on for miles. I groan when I realize I'll have to find a main road, and start heading to Missouri. I'll also have to siphon gas, but thankfully I have the stuff to do that. We drive well into the night, but I stop the car when I get tired. I lock the doors, rouse the teenager, and grab my pack from the floor. The teenager rubs her eyes, then seems to become extremely excited and says, "We did it!". I chuckle and tell her, "We did it a few hours ago, why are you suddenly so excited?". She pushes the bag out of my hands, takes my hands in hers, and shakes them as she excitedly tells me, "We don't have to stay in the city, we have a ton of supplies, and **WE HAVE A FUCKING CAR!**". I once again chuckle, but stop when the young teenager grabs my head. I'm about to ask her what the hell she's doing, but stop when she yanks my head forward and captures my lips in a kiss. I should pull back and tell the teenager never to do this again, but I can't bring myself to. It's been thirty years since I've kissed someone, and their lips were cracked and dried while the teen's are soft and plump. However, this also reinforces my idea that her stepmother might have used her. Even in the cities the children are taught that it's dangerous to romantically kiss people old enough to be their parents. Then, I ignore that as the survivor presses her lips harder against mine.

I allow the kiss to continue for a while, but eventually we break apart to properly take in air. I expect the teenager to say something, but she simply hugs me and asks, "What's for dinner?". I gulp down some air and tell her, "Canned meat and water.". She pulls back and starts digging around in her bag, handing me my canteen. I hand her some canned beef, but keep watching her face. I expect her to say something about kissing or what we just did, but she keeps focusing on her food. She swallows some beef and asks me, "What are we doing tomorrow?". I stop spooning my turkey and answer, "I'll just drive, try to find a road, and head to Missouri when we find a highway.". The teen looks confused and says, "Doesn't this thing have a GPS?". I nod, but tell her, "If I turn it on the city can track us. Right now they think we're heading for New York, but we're really heading to Canada. If they look for their missing car, they won't find it. And, I doubt they'll actually look for it. That would take time, effort, and money.". The woman nods in understanding, finishes her dinner, and adjust her seat so she's reclining. I finish my meal, turn off the car (carefully pocketing the keys), and adjust my seat. I'm nodding off when the teenager whispers, "I can't sleep in this position.". I blink my eyes open and ask, "Why?".

She tells me, "I'm not lying down.". I know exactly what she wants to do, so I tell her, "Get up.". We adjust our position so we're lying length wise of the car, her back pressed against my front. When we're lying down she recreates our position from the apartment, my hand coming to rest on her stomach. I'm reminded of her scar and whisper, "How did you get the scar on your stomach?". She grumbles out of her sleepy state and answers, "Hysterectomy and oophorectomy.". I nearly choke on air and ask, "How old are you?". She yawns and says, "Sixteen.". Sixteen and she's already had her ovaries and uterus removed. I slightly sit up and question her, "Why did you get those removed? Who performed the surgery? How are you not dead?". After the zombies started to take over, all medical cleanliness went out the window. And, technology and education has gone backwards, so it would be a miracle that any doctor could perform those surgeries without killing her. She once again yawns and asks if we can do this in the morning, but when I insist she sighs and answers, "I got it removed because I don't wish to bring a child into a world like the one we currently have, and the hospital offered me a free meal if I underwent the procedure. Some doctors from New York performed it. And, I almost did die. I got a really bad infection a few days after they removed my ovaries, but they gave me some medicine and I got through it.". All of this disgusts and surprises me, but I ask one last question.

"Why did the doctors do this without charging you?". She sleepily answers, "There was an overpopulation problem, so they asked some citizens to willingly have their ability to reproduce taken away. I was given a free meal, a few weeks in the hospital where they fed and housed me, and fifty bucks.". I realize that fifty bucks was what she used to get our supplies. I lie back down, put my hands back where they were, and tell her, "Good night.". She yawns for the hundredth time and answers, "Don't let the living dead bite.". I ignore her comment and shut my eyes, sleep claiming me.


	9. Babette

The teenager wakes me up by shaking me, and when my eyes are open she whispers, "Zombie.". I sit up and look outside, a single zombie standing in front of the car. I sigh, turn on the car, and repeatedly run over the corpse. When I'm certain he's a stain I try to lie back down, but the teenager stops me. I look at her and she tells me, "It's morning, and we need to get going.". I once again sit up, and hand the survivor a can of meat as she hands me my canteen. As I eat I remember last night. More importantly I remember the girl kissing me. I clear my throat, and when she looks up at me I tell her, "You kissed me last night.". She nods and goes back to eating, uncaring. I once again get her attention and ask her, "Have you ever kissed someone like that before?". When she nods I ask, "Do you know what that kind of kiss means?". The teen gives me a stereotypical teenager look and tells me, "It means I like you.". I nearly choke on some beef, but when I manage to swallow it down I wheeze out, "You realize that means you like me in a,". I choose my word carefully, "special way.". She nods, then asks me, "You still have some of that armadillo meat?". I hand her some meat, finish up breakfast, and resume driving. The teenager still doesn't have a care in the world, and just stares out the window.

My mind is a giant tangle. A teenager young enough to be my daughter kissed me, is aware of what the kiss means, and doesn't seem bothered at all. But the biggest thing is I can't understand why she kissed me. I could understand if I was younger, better looking, or a man. However, the teen kissed me and seems to have decided that she likes me in a 'special' way. I'm not sure what it's like in the cities, but obviously people aren't beating their opinions into their kid's heads. That's good, but I think the teenager might be overlooking many things. We're in a zombie filled world, I'm going to die decades before her, and we're from two completely different worlds. I don't want the girl to think I'd pursue a relationship with her, but I can't find a nice way to say 'don't ever kiss me again'. Then, a strange thought occurs to me. Why the hell shouldn't I allow myself the simple pleasure of a human companion? A few kisses and cuddles (although those are mostly for warmth) have never hurt anyone. I might technically be a pedophilia (the teenager is only sixteen), but I'm not trying to get the girl to get naked. And, she's never been taught what a pedophilia even is. In her world we're just two people who like each other. When the zombies arrived the barriers of hate and discrimination blurred, and eventually faded. I suppose that's all well and good, but it took the world ending for those lines to disappear.

My thoughts are interrupted by the teenager in question hitting my shoulder, and pointing to a road off to the west. I smile, thank her, and begin driving there. When we reach the road I tell the woman, "This is wonderful.". She nods in agreement, then I notice a light flashing on the dashboard. I look down and see that we need gas. Damn. Then, I notice a sign saying a gas station is a few miles away. We might be able to make it. Maybe. We're running on fumes when we reach the station. I look at the abandoned building, and ask the survivor, "Do you know how to siphon gas?". When she nods I hand her the tools and ask, "Would you mind doing that?". She shrugs and gets out. I get out and cover the woman, but when there's no signs of zombies I tell her, "I'm checking the building for food.". The teen is too busy sucking on the plastic hose to do much else but nod. I enter the station, a single zombie inside. I calmly raise my gun, shoot her, and walk into the store. I find a few snacks that aren't out of date, a knife on the zombie's body, and some rope in the back store room. When I have the supplies I head back to the car, the survivor impatiently pressing her face against the window to watch me. I smile, throw our stuff in the back, and return to the car. As I drive the teenager reports, "All filled up, and I managed to find a few gas cans lying around. I filled those up and put them in back,". I nod and tell her, "I got some snacks and a rope.". The teen opens her mouth to say something, but the sight in front of us stops her.

A small child (even younger than the teenager) is cornered in a willow tree, five zombies clawing at the tree. I prepare to drive by the scene. I'm a zombie apocalypse survivor not a daycare, I don't need two people younger than me. It sounds extremely cruel, but it's the truth. The survivor has proven herself useful (and I like her), but the child has only proven she can scale a tree. But when I move to drive around the zombies the teenager slaps my shoulder, and I drive closer to the scene. The survivor asks, "Want to run them over or shoot them?". I shrug and ask, "Why not both?". I slam my foot down on the pedal, slamming into three zombies. I roll my window down and blow one's brains out, the teenager following my example. When the deed is done we exit the vehicle, scanning the area for zombies. We're in an area of Oklahoma that's crawling with the walking dead. I'm surprised the child is still alive. Speaking of which, the teen is opening her arms and encouraging the small kid the jump. It takes a few minutes (I loot the corpses in that time), but eventually the child jumps. The teenager catches her, but grunts and falls to one knee. I walk over, help her, and freeze when I hear a rustling in the bushes. The survivor hears it, and picks the child back up. The child is babbling off questions, but the survivor ignores it and charges back to the car with me. We make it to the vehicle just as the zombie horde bursts through the foliage of the woods, moaning, groaning, and shuffling. I once again slam my foot to the floorboard.

When we're a safe distance away the survivor asks the child (who's smashed in between us), "What's your name?". The child calmly tells the teen, "Babette.". I clear my throat and ask, "What was all that back there?". Babette quickly tells us her story. She was born and raised in a small community of survivors, but not everything worked. Eventually, the city failed and people fled. The child was in a large group of people, and it wasn't surprising when the infection took hold. Those five zombies that were clawing at the tree were her family members. For a child that just watched her family turn to zombies she's oddly calm. It's almost unnerving. I make a mental note to watch the child, and protect the teenager if need be. Babette yawns and asks the survivor, "Do you have any food?". The teenager nods and hands the child some turkey. I glance over and notice the child's bones poking through her clothes, the sunken look in her eyes, and the way she savagely devours her food. The creature is starving. Then, a sudden though occurs to me. Without looking at the child I tell her, "Strip.". The teenager (she was talking) falls silent, I can tell Babette is insulted, and both of them disagree with me. I groan and explain, "We need to make sure you aren't bitten. I'm not going to examine you, my friend will..". That seems to calm Babette down. She isn't thrilled that we're checking her for bites, but she allows the teenager to. That's all I ask for.

I keep driving in silence, Babette and the survivor talking. I tune out their blabber, slightly hurt that the teenager is completely ignoring me. I sigh and think about what's going on. I can tell I've been acting like an ass today, but I don't know why. I treated the teen like she was a child (she is, but in this world she may as well be an adult), I almost abandoned Babette to be eaten (that goes against my heroic nature and morals), and I've been talking to the teenager in a disrespectful way. Ever since I woke up I've been acting out of sorts. Probably just reacting badly to the survivor's kiss. No wonder my two driving companions are ignoring me, I wouldn't want to talk to me either. I make a solemn vow to start acting like my normal self. When night falls I ask the teenager, "Want to drive or get some rest?". She shrugs and says, "I'd like to rest, but I'll drive tomorrow.". I turn off the car and tell her, "Fair enough.". There are three of us, so we can't comfortably do anything in the seats. All three of us move to the makeshift cell where our supplies are stored. We all sit down and eat, Babette once again devouring her meal like a starved wolf. When our meal is done I look outside, decide the time, and ask the survivor, "Can I speak to you in private?". She nods and allows me to yank her outside, away from Babette's hearing range.

I give the survivor a quick apology about the way I've been acting, and when she accepts I go on to tell her, "I don't trust Babette.". The survivor rolls her eyes and tells me, "She's just a kid. Come on, she's only ten.". I hold in my groan and tell her, "You're only sixteen, but I still accept the fact that you could kill me. I'm not trying to start a fight, but I want to know more about this kid. She just happens to be in a tree while we drive by, I've never heard of her community, and she survived months on her own. No child should be able to take care of themselves like her.". The survivor mulls over my words, then says, "Delphine, I understand that before the zombie infection that it was your job to be paranoid, but I think you're overestimating a little kid. All she managed to do was survive while others died. I'm not saying you're wrong or right, but I'll be more careful around Babette if you want me to. Deal?". I nod, then head back to the car. I find Babette asleep in a corner of the prisoner's cell. It's getting darker and I'm tired, so I lie down on the seats and motion for the survivor to join me. The teen moves to lie down, but wakes up Babette before she does. I curse as the teenager asks Babette if she wants to curl up with us, but thank every deity I can think of when the child declines. I'm not sure why, but I don't want that child anywhere near me while I sleep. When the survivor is in my arms I pull her tight, bury my head in the back of her neck, and fall asleep.

* * *

**Note: I had some trouble uploading this a few hours ago, so a few of you might have read the chapter and been completely confused (it cut off halfway through the chapter). Don't worry, the full chapter (above) is one hundred percent completed. Now, for a shorter matter. I think I'm adding a third story to my current works in progress. Maybe a sequel to _The March _or _Disgusting._ It might add a little time in between updates, but I think it would be worth it. I'm planning on opening a poll on my profile. It'll include every one of my stories that I'm willing to write a sequel to (_Thirst, Survivors, _and _Love _are the only ones off the table). So, if you want to vote on which story gets to continue, then swing by my profile or leave a review.**


	10. Branson

**Note: I had trouble uploading the last chapter, so it might be a little confusing if you read the unfixed chapter. If you haven't read it, then flip to the last chapter and finish it up. Now, for a short matter. I think I'm adding a third story to my current works in progress. Maybe a sequel to _The March _or _Disgusting._ It might add a little time in between updates, but I think it would be worth it. I'm planning on opening a poll on my profile. It'll include every one of my stories that I'm willing to write a sequel to (_Thirst, Survivors, _and _Love _are the only ones off the table). So, if you want to vote on which story gets to continue, then swing by my profile, PM me, or leave a review.**

* * *

The next morning I sigh in relief when the teen announces she wants to drive. I like driving, but it gets tiring after a while. Babette wishes to remain in the prisoner's cell (thank god), but I sit beside the teenager. Suddenly, the girl asks me, "What was it like to live before the zombies took over?". I inwardly groan and tell her, "Describing the world to you would be like trying to describe color to a blind person. I can't describe the entire world to you, but I can describe what it was like for me. I thought the world was a decent place. You usually heard about the bad in the world, but the media tended to choose stories about violence over stories about other topics. I remember thinking how boring the place I lived at was. Now I'd give anything for my biggest problem to be what I was going to wear. It was a tough world, but easier than this.". The teenager falls silent, then asks, "What did people do when they liked each other?". I realize instantly what she's talking about. I'm glad she wants to talk about it, but I'm nervous about what to tell her. What I say could change her entire opinion. I clear my throat and tell her, "When two people liked each other they would date, and if it worked out they would 'go steady'.". Going steady is an older term, but it's the only one I can think of. I keep talking, "If that worked they would move in together, and might eventually get married. Sex comes into play at one point or another.".

The teen cleared her throat and asks, "Would they kiss like we did?". I nod and tell her, "Just like us. When I was around society wouldn't have looked too kindly on our relationship.". The survivor nods, but tells me, "I think I like you like people who were going steady use to like one another. Can we go steady?". I'm twice her age, we're from different worlds, and we met a few days ago (or was it weeks? I can't seem to tell anymore). I want to say 'no', but I find myself saying, "Yes.". The teenager beams and announces, "We're going steady. What now?". I let out a small laugh and tell her, "We grow to know each other even more, and eventually we can have sex.". The girl tenses up when I say 'sex', but tries not to show it and tells me, "I like going steady. Now, where do you want to go?". I look up and see two paths are in front of us. One is cleared and one is barricaded. The clear way is titled _Springfield. _The blocked path is titled _Branson. _I instantly tell her, "It's a trap, we need to go to Branson. I'll go push some cars out of the way, be ready to drive.". I get out, open a space _just _wide enough for the car to fit through (nearly killing myself in the process. Cars aren't easy to move, but I want the teen to be safe). The teenager slowly drives through the opening, careful of the sides of the car.

When she's on the other side I run back to the car, but stop when I hear a yap from behind me. I turn and see a dog limping towards me, half of his head dangling by a thin strand of meat. Without thinking I raise my gun, blow the rest of the creature's head off, and curse as it starts to hobble around. It can't see, smell, or hear, but the damned thing is still trying to find me. I'm not sure how it's moving (I'm pretty sure I blew its primary motor cortex to hell), but it is. I fire my entire magazine at the monster, but it's still limping around. I curse and prepare to go back to the car. However, the headless abomination somehow finds me and charges. I'm not sure what the creature would have done if he got me (he has no fangs and only three legs) because I hear the bang of a shotgun, and the monster's entire upper body explodes in a spray of blood and guts. I'm relieved, but my relief turns sour when I hear an inhuman moaning. I flip around and realize why the barricade was up. Not for a clever trap for travelers, it was to keep the entire population of the city inside. The shotgun blast must have alerted them to us. The survivor begins firing (she's hanging out the car window) while I flee back to the vehicle, Babette still in the back. In one swift motion I leap into the car, the teenager slides back in, and we speed off as the zombies reach the back of our car. The barricade was set up to the west, the zombies came from the south, and we're speeding off north. Right into Branson.

I'm panting, sweating, and my heart is racing. An entire horde of zombies is behind us. I groan, run my fingers through my hair, and ask the woman, "Where are we going?". She shrugs and says, "I had to learn a lot about this place in school. There's a cabin area called Indian Point, some docks called Indian Point Docks, and an amusement park called Silver Dollar City. I never really understood why we were learning about this area, but I guess it's coming in handy now.". I nod and tell her, "Just drive through, we don't need anything.". The survivor once again nods, then says, "Babette, you okay back there?". No answer. My fellow clears her voice and says, "Are you okay?". When the child doesn't answer I open the door to the cell, the young girl lying down on the floor asleep. Why the hell isn't she answering? I stand, climb into the back, and scream when the child pounces at me. I fall back into my seat, the zombie clawing at the floor as she scuttles towards me. I try to pull my gun from my belt as I kick the girl in the face, keeping her away. I all but scream at the survivor, "YOU DIDN'T CHECK HER RIGHT! SHE'S INFECTED!". The survivor is barely able to drive between my screaming and the zombie snarling in the back. I manage to get my gun free, aim at the woman, and fire. The bitch keeps coming. I try to keep her at bay, but eventually we're fighting in the front seat. I almost don't notice when the left front tire hits a gigantic bump in the road, but I feel the front axle crumpling like paper and the armored truck somehow managing to flip.

* * *

The first thing I notice is a ringing in my ears, then I notice the fact that I'm upside down. I manage to turn my neck and see Babette's headless body beside me. Poor poor bitch. Must not have known she was bitten. I feel kind of bad for suspecting her of being odd. A groaning to my right catches my attention, and when I look I see the survivor's unconscious body dangling beside me. I unbuckle, but am trapped in the car. I turn myself in a certain way (pushing Babette's body to the side) so I can kick the windshield open. I grab my bag and crawl outside, the vehicle on the side of the road. The survivor's door is in better shape than mine, so I can open it to retrieve her. The teenager screams as I try to pull her from the wreckage. I quickly stop, shush her, and try to find out what's hurting her so badly. Unconscious people tend to not register pain as much as a conscious person, so the wound must be great. The injury is easily identified. Her right leg is broken at the shin, the broken bone piercing through the skin. Her other leg is trapped under rubble, but it seems intact. I silently apologize to the teen, grab under her armpits, and give her a mighty tug. Her scream must alert every zombie in the vicinity, but now she's freed from the truck. I grab the other pack (we'll need these supplies), and heave the woman into my arms.

I take one step and fall to my knees, a swollen ankle suggesting I might be injured. I take a deep breath, stand, and hobble down the road. I see a sign pointing right that says _Silver Dollar City, _and a sign pointing left that says _Indian Point Resort. _An amusement park is a horrible place to hide from zombies, so I decide to head to Indian Point. I hobble down the cracked, desolate, and shattered road for I don't know how long, the teen shaking in my arms. Damn it. She's going in to shock, and I have no area to treat her. The blood gushing from her leg is alarming, so I sit her down and make a tourniquet with some bandages from the first aid kit. I also wrap some bandages around the wound itself, and eventually the bleeding stops. At least one problem is taken care of. I can see that her bone is still protruding, but at least she won't die of blood loss. I hear the zombies behind us, but I don't look back. The monsters are underfed, wounded, and ancient. So, they can only crawl and stumble after us. It's a race for survival, but it wouldn't win any action movie awards. For a fleeting second I consider leaving the teen, but the next second I'm mentally beating myself up. The teenager and I are (apparently, according to her) dating, she's a living human being, and I need to remember my usual selfless nature (I've only been thinking about myself recently).

When we reach Indian Point I groan, the area is roughly twenty cabins. Each cabin has roughly thirty hotel rooms in them, and all of them could be crawly with zombies. I hear some of the creatures behind me, and pick a cabin at random. I burst into the room (why was it unlocked?), drop the teen on the ground, and slam the door shut. I lock it and shove some rags in the area between the door and the floor, so our scent won't leak out. I do a quick check of the apartment, sighing in relief when I don't find any zombies. I lock the windows, find the bedroom, and drag the survivor onto the bed. She is breathing heavily, her heartbeat is frantic, and she remains unconscious. I inwardly scream in panic, but then set about doing what I can. I secure the tiny apartment (it has a living area, kitchen, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a balcony), put our supplies where they belong (it's going to be a long stay), and return to the survivor. I remove the bandages and look at the open break, the bone sticking from the skin. What the hell do I do? I was taught never to manipulate a fracture where the bone is showing, and to wait for medical help. I'm the closest thing to a doctor we have. I can't leave the bone outside her body, it would never heal and could get infected. I gather my courage, take off my shoe, and strike the bone.

The bone moves a little, but is reluctant to return to the girl's body. I feel vomit in the back of my throat, but fight it down and strike the bone again. I keep striking the bone until it's back to its 'normal' position, my companion screaming and crying out all the while. All I can do is shush her and encourage her that it'll all be over soon. When the bone is inside I make sure the muscles are in the right place, move the skin to where it belongs, and bandage the wound up once again. I look at the tourniquet. Do I leave it on or take it off? I have no idea, my medical training only goes as far as broken fingers and sprained ankles. I go ahead and take it off, I don't want her to lose her leg. I look at the woman and come to a sudden realization. She could die. She could have died a thousand times since I've met her, but it suddenly hits me full force. For the first time since the apocalypse started I put my head in my hands and cry, the world unsympathetic around me.


	11. Prayers Unanswered

I'm still weeping when the survivor alerts me to her waking up by moaning, her eyes slowly flicking beneath her lids. I instantly rise and rush to her side, examining her for signs of shock. I must have been crying for an awful long time if the teenager was able to come out of shock. She opens her eyes and slowly looks around, then asks me, "What happened?". When I explain the situation she allows herself a moment to cry, then asks me, "What are we going to do?". I console her and answer, "I don't know.". I hear her stomach growl and tell her, "I'm going to go get you some food.". I stand and leave the room, but freeze when I hear a rustling. I pull out my gun and run to the kitchen, but once again freeze at the sight before me. Roughly twenty thin coons are in the kitchen. They're in a gigantic group, and they seem to be swarming around something. Suddenly, one raccoon goes back to his business. He begins gnawing at something, and I see the metal can in his paws gleam. Without a second thought I raise the gun in my hands and shoot him. It's as if I've opened a floodgate of furry bodies. I scream and kick a few as they pass me, but most of them escape. I look at where they disappeared. It's only a few inches wide, and I'm surprised the creatures were even able to get through. I block the hole and go examine what they were eating. Damn it. The drug our food supply from its hiding place and destroyed most of it.

We only have five cans left, and all of them are turkey. I suppose I could feed the teen some turkey, but her throat would swell and she would end up dying. So, I have some food I can use to kill the survivor and some raccoon meat. I skin, gut, and clean the animal. Now, how am I going to cook him? I can't start a fire in the house, the balcony is all wood, and the smell of cooking meat outside will attract zombies. I groan and go to tell the teenager our situation. She begins to lightly cry again, but I console her and tell her, "I saw some berry bushes a little ways away. I'll go get some, and we can think of something else later.". She begs me not to go, but in the end I have to. I load my gun, say my prayers, and step outside. Not a single zombie in sight. Thank the nine. I quickly secure the door from the outside. I notice the swelling in my ankle has gone down, so I'm good to go. I slowly walk around the area, snatching berries and shoving them in my bag. I turn to go back to the cabin when I notice a fire in the distance. I consider ignoring it, but it could be fellow survivors that don't know of the zombie horde in the area. The survivor might not appreciate it, but I go to investigate. I quickly go into the forest and creep up on whoever started the fire. I'm quite far away from the cabins, but I'm also a fast runner. I'm pretty safe. Probably.

I make sure to remain unseen, stay unheard, and take in every detail I can. Three men, two women, and nine children are sitting around a gigantic fire, a wild boar roasting above the flames. Where the hell they found a boar I'll never know. One woman stands and begins preaching, "On the seventh day of creation Kynareth said, 'I have made beast in the forest, fish in the seas, and birds in the sky. You may partake of all for they be your bounty, just pray unto me for I have given you their flesh.' The daedra Molag Bal has destroyed the world, and taken our bounty with him. But our gods offer us one way out, and Kynareth has given us her praise to do so. On the twentieth day of the explosion of Red Mountain Kynareth turned to the praying devout and told them, 'The forests are burned, the sea is red, and the sky is black. My bounty for you has died, but I offer you one solution. Those who have sinned and gone against the divines may be treated as beast, for they are little more than such. Partake of their flesh only when you must. When the birds once again fly and the fish swim, then only Namira's followers shall eat the flesh of mortal men.'. Today the forest is empty, the sky is clear, and the sea is red. The day of destruction has come unto us, and Kynareth has given us her blessing to feast upon those who we must.".

She turns, points to the roast pig (I pray it's pig), and yells, "We found a wounded man among our garbage, scrounging for our scraps. I gave him a blessing for his wounds and praised him for surviving so long. But when I went to give him a holy amulet he spat and snarled, 'I have no use for amulets, for my wound is mortal. The gods are deaf.'. I am the ear of the gods, and Kynareth snarled at his condemnation of the divines. I slew him with my holy knife, stripped the sinner's skin, and prepared his unholy flesh for baptizing. His meat is cooked, Kynareth is appeased, and our meal is ready.". She draws a knife, walks over to the cooking man, and hacks off his leg. She gives the leg to the starving children, the savages ripping the cooked human meat apart. I feel vomit in the back of my throat as they all begin digging into their meal. I start to back up, but stop when the priestess turns to me and screams, "Kynareth speaks to me, and she smells another corrupt wolf among her sheep. A disgusting sinner who wishes to take another woman to bed. She is hiding from my divine sight, but I can hear her stained soul yelling out for help from her. Come forth sinner, so that I might lay my divine blessing upon you. Throw your weapon to the ground, abandon your doomed lover, and join our feast!".

I'm completely shaken, but I slowly prepare my gun. The priestess laughs and screams at the sky, "Forgive her mother, for she knows not what she does.". Then, her chest explodes in a spray of blood as my bullet enters her body. The followers are instantly up and ready for a fight, but I take all of the adults out before I can even think about it. I move out of hiding, but realize I've left all the children alive. I clear my throat to say something (I'm not sure what), but before I can even get a syllable out the children are charging. In an instant I'm in my protection mode. The children are savage, their teeth are stained red, and I know they eat people. I haven't shot this fast or reloaded this quick since President Hillary was almost assassinated. When all of them are dead I crouch down, hot vomit spewing from my mouth. I've just killed nine children. Nine _children. _What kind of monster am I? I haven't seen a mirror in years, but I can tell I must look different than what I use to. The beautiful, confident woman that left Washington D.C. is long gone. A scarred, battered middle aged woman is left in her place. One who's committed things I wouldn't even tell my closest friend. I straighten up, a wonderful aroma catching my attention. My mouth waters and I look at the source of the scent, the poor roasting man still burning. How zombies aren't swarming the area I have no clue.

I turn to leave, but the smell is getting to me. I walk over to the corpse, tear off a chunk, quickly decide I'm a horrible human being, and shove the meat into my mouth. After decades of eating canned meat, berries, and plants this is a feast. It's fresh, delicious, and there's an abundant supply of it. I eat until I'm full. I make sure to be careful, I don't want my stomach to burst. Suddenly, I realize the teenager needs something to eat. I have berries, but those won't let a growing teenager survive. I shove some meat into my pack, then I have a brilliant idea. The children are small, and I can easily carry two or three. I grab as many as I can and begin stumbling back to the cabin, praying no zombies finds me. I somehow manage to make it back, open the door, and fall through. I throw the bleeding bodies to the side, clean myself up, and enter the survivor's room. She smiles when she sees me, and gasps when I show her the meat. Before she can say anything, I go over and forcibly feed the teenager some. When she's fed the teenager asks me, "What was that?". I easily lie, "Raccoon.". She nods and suddenly asks, "Can I ask you a question?". I hold back the urge to say a sarcastic response, and tell her, "Yes.". The teen asks me out of the middle of nowhere, "Are we the good guys?".

We just ate a person, so I guess not. But I still ask the woman, "Why do you ask that?". She sighs and explains, "We stole the car, and we don't live in a society.". I shrug and tell her, "I don't think there are any 'good' or 'bad' guys. I think there are just people. We do what we have to do to survive. You haven't harmed an innocent person. So, if you still want to use titles, then I guess you're a good guy.". She mulls over my words, then tells me, "I suppose you're right. But if nobody is good or bad, how do we tell what's right and wrong?". I shrug and tell her, "I think it's all in the eye of the beholder. What's wrong in someone else's eyes might be right in ours. If you want to know what's 'good', then just ask yourself one simple question. Would I want what I'm about to do done to me? If the answer is 'no', then I suppose you shouldn't do it. But then there's another problem. If someone tries to hurt you, take advantage of you, or if the situation is desperate, then I think that question flies out the window. Do you agree with me?". When she nods I feel a weight lift off my shoulder. She didn't know she just ate human meat, but at least she won't hate me if she finds out. I smile and relax, for once I'm relatively safe.

* * *

**Note: Hey, quick little note here. Voting is officially over (I went ahead and deleted the poll off my profile to avoid confusion). I originally intended to leave the poll open a little longer, but I wanted to get started on the sequel before I went back to doing stuff. On a related note, updates may have a little more time in between them. I only update my stories when all of them are ready to get a new chapter, so don't worry about _Love _getting updated one day and _Survivors _another. Now, to tell you the winner. I'm surprised (but none the less pleased) that _The March _will get to keep going (I'm not going to lie, for a little bit I was afraid _The Ends of the Earth and Back _was going to win. I love the story, but I'd have no idea what to do with a sequel, and in the end it would destroy the original). I was expecting _The Queen and Her Cat _to win, but I'm still pumped to get to revisit Rikke and her Khajiit. Now, I'll flat out say I'm planning on continuing _The Queen and Her Cat _when _Survivors _and _Love _are over. _Survivors _is coming along nicely, but it'll probably end _very _soon. If you know how _Thirst _ended, then you better prepare yourselves for _Survivors _to end kind of like that. That's it. Favorites liked, reviews wanted, and every reader loved.  
**

**-KhajiitWarriorSam**


	12. Soup

When the sun rises I go into the kitchen, four dead bodies in a pile. Their blood is everywhere, but I couldn't care less. I need to clean and gut them before they start rotting. I find four towel racks in the bathroom, move them to the kitchen, and pray they can hold a hundred pounds each. I tie one child to a rack. The metal groans and bends, but doesn't break. Thank the nine. I quickly tie the other ones up to different racks. Then, I rummage around the kitchen and find some odd objects. A saw under the sink, some rope in a cupboard, and some handcuffs in the trash (who the hell keeps these things around?). Odd, but all of these items could come in handy. Then, I find some more sensible items. Four bowls, five spoons, and a butcher's knife. The butcher's knife is actually perfect for what I have in mind. I walk over to the corpse, decide which one to clean first, and chop off his head. I place the cranium to the side for later, then watch as some blood slowly seeps from the corpse. Damn, I should have found a bucket. Oh well, I can always tell the survivor I was gutting coons. And, I can still clean this mess up before the teenager sees. To see this mess she would have to be able to walk, and she isn't walking any time soon. When the blood is drained I begin to remove all the bones I can reach, then begin stripping the child's arms of his flesh and meat. I make a pile on the floor for the bones I remove.

A separate pile for the meat and flesh is on the counter, but now I have a problem. I need to remove his organs that we can't eat. I sigh as I go to work. It takes a while to gut him, but eventually it's done. I throw the guts out the window, then curse myself when I realize that might attract zombies. The cabin is raised off the ground, so I can't retrieve the organs. Damn. I turn back to the corpse and see his empty torso, a few bones still inside. I groan and go about removing all of the bones from his body, avoiding his legs. I'll take care of those later. Now he's just two bone filled legs, a decapitated head, and a hanging pile of bloody meat and skin. I begin chopping his flesh into manageable chunks and slices, adding the meat to the pile. Finally, the corpse is reduced to two legs. I quickly remove the bones, chop the meat into pieces, and add them to the pile. I'm sweating horribly from the exertion, so I take a moment to relax and look at my work. A pile of bones, a pile of meat with flesh on it, and a decapitated head. I can boil the bones later to make them edible, and the water will make a nice bone broth. Now, I have to take care of the meat. He hardly has any fat, but we can burn it if need be. So, I eat a can of turkey, shove the meat into the tin, and do my best to seal the container. It's not wonderful, but it'll keep hungry ants out.

His flesh is another matter. Can we eat that? I don't _think _so. Can I tan the skin and make it into leather? No. I don't know how, I don't have the supplies needed to do that, and the flesh is broken up into small areas. I cut a chunk of flesh off and feel it. I'll go ahead and cook it, I can always remove it if it doesn't end up helping. I also added a few edible organs to the pile (heart, lived, kidney, etc.), but I know how to properly cook them. Good, now all I have to worry about is the head. I can prepare the eyes, brain, and meat on his face into edible dishes, but I have a major problem. What if the survivor realizes she's gulping down human stew? Then, I decide I'll simply lie or chop the meat into tiny cubes. I strip the skull of its meat, pluck out the eyes, and yank out his brain and tongue. The blood that collected in his head is splattering my clothes and skin, but I ignore it. I'll clean up later before I feed the survivor. Finally, all that's left is the skull. I can't feed the survivor this. I'll snap the other bones in half before I cook them, so she doesn't realize they're human bones. But the skull would need to be shatter to be unrecognizable, and then it wouldn't cook right. Probably, I'm truly guessing on most of this. It helps to think of him as a deer or pig. I focus back on the skull in my hand and throw it out the window, the skull knocking a zombie on the head. Seems the bastards found the organs. Oh well, they're going to get a lot more over the next few hours. One child is completely cleaned and ready to cook, but I have three more to go. I sigh, pull out my knife, and go back to work.

As I work I think. Is this what it's really come to? Eating children simply because there's no other food? I remember near the start of the virus outbreak I found a cult of people (similar to the one I found today) who ate children. I shot them all and looked at their bodies with disgust, but there were other details I ignore. Every single member of the cult was thin, they had no food on them, and the smell of the cooking flesh was getting to me. But I had (a small amount of) food, and I refused to dine on the flesh of a human. Now I'm cutting up four children to eat. If my younger self could see me now she would vomit in disgust. I'm calmly sticking my hand inside a little girl's chest, fishing around for her heart. What else can I do? We need food. Surely this isn't as bad as I think it is. They tried to kill me! It was fight or die, and they just happened to die! If we didn't eat them, then some zombie would. I'm just saving them from lying around and rotting as the living dead slowly gnaw on them. Besides, the survivor is eating people to. She might not know it, but she is. Then, I realize what I'm doing. I'm trying to defend cannibalism! I feel loathing and shame swell in my gut, but I ignore it and keep cleaning. As I clean the children's bodies I keep quietly chanting, "_We need food. We need food."_. But in the back of my mind there's a small whisper that asks, '_At what cost?_".

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

I'm lying in bed, my injured leg propped up on some pillows. I'm reading a pamphlet on Branson (I found it in the dresser beside me), but I'm most interested in the map on the back. It shows the surrounding area. Inner Branson is to our west, the lake is to our south, the outskirts are to our north, and a hospital is to our east. Then, Delphine walks in with a steaming bowl of something. I smile as she hands me the food. As I begin to eat she tells me, "I was able to start a fire on the balcony without anything going up in flames.". I spoon the soup, chunks of meat in the liquid. I put a spoon full in my mouth, then manage to slur out, "What is this?". Delphine tells me, "Coon.". Then, she leaves and returns with her own bowl. She instantly digs in, eating like a starved dog. I can't blame her, the stew is delicious! When I get to the bottom of the bowl I notice a few tiny bones, and when I question my elder about it she answers, "I stewed them, they should be edible. You don't have to eat them, but the calcium will help your bone mend faster and stronger.". Damn, I hadn't thought about that. I spoon the bones into my mouth, surprised at the taste. It's surprisingly decent and enjoyable to eat. Like pieces of candy my stepmother use to give me on my birthday. Not in flavor, but in the fact that it actually taste good. Most of the food in this world is canned, spoiled, or rotten. When the stew is done I place the bowl on the dresser, and when Delphine is done she takes the dishes back into the kitchen for later.

When Delphine returns she instantly begins undressing my wound, the first aid kit beside her. I'm not sure what to expect, but it isn't the concerned look on her face. Delphine curses and tells me, "Your bone and skin are fine. Well, besides being broken and cut. Anyway, your muscles are becoming inflamed and swelling. Those are the first signs of infection.". I feel fear grip my heart and I ask her, "Is there anything we can do.". She considers if there's an answer, then tells me, "We can always go to Kansas City and beg to be admitted to the city. Their security is ten times as tough as Oklahoma City, so we could never escape. But if it means your life, then I'm willing to do it. I suppose I could carry you or find a bike or-". She suddenly falls silent and snatches the map from my side. She cracks a smile and tells me, "I don't think we'll have to worry about that. This is great! There's a hospital half a mile from here! I can grab some antibiotics, pain killers, disinfectants, and some tools to stitch you up with.". I instantly tell her, "No. It's too dangerous.". She scoffs and tells me, "I can handle it. Trust me, I've been fighting zombies since before you were born.". I inwardly groan, tell her she's wrong, and continually argue with her. The fight goes on for a few minutes, then Delphine sighs and tells me, "You're right. Just promise me one thing.". I instinctively ask, "What?". In an instant Delphine lunges forward, pulls some handcuffs from her pocket, and chains me to the bed. She smirks and tells me, "Promise me you won't be mad. Now, I'll be back in a day or two. I'll break the cuffs when I get back. I'll return before you get hungry or need to pee. Wish me luck!". She struts away, leaving me cursing and yanking at my handcuffed wrist.

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

The gigantic building in front of me is in a horrible condition. It's leaning, all of the windows are shattered, plants have overtaken the side of it, and it looks ready to collapse in on itself. I nervously swallow. I managed to avoid any zombies or cultist on the way here (I'm just guessing there are still some cultist), but there's no telling what's inside. I had the foresight to bring a torch, but that might not help me in the tremendous building. The teenager is probably mad at me, but if I went back now she might forgive me. I curse myself for being a coward. It's just a big building. Nothing else. The teenager needs the medicine inside (if there is any), and I'm the only one who can get it for her. I slowly go inside, the darkness surrounding me.


	13. Doctor

I slowly walk through the building, my torch the only source of light. The ground beneath me groans and creaks as I walk, but I keep going. I find a map of the place, and when I scan it I find out the storage room is on the twentieth floor. And, the stairs don't go just straight up (because that would be too easy), they switch sides every other floor. So, I have to go up to the second floor on the east wing of the building, but I have to walk all the way to the west wing to get to the third floor. I'm not sure who designed this hospital, but I hate him. The cherry on top of the cake is the fact that the light from the busted windows can't reach me. So, I'm literally going to be walking through twenty floors, in the semi darkness, and be completely unaware how many zombies there are. I seriously consider turning around, but if I did the survivor would die. I need to do this. I HAVE to do this. I once again gather my courage, grip my gun, and head up to the second floor. So far so good. I take three steps, and freeze when my foot hits something. A woman is lying on the floor, her throat ripped out. I quickly search her body, but the only useful thing I find is a flashlight. I try to turn it on, but the batteries are dead. I toss the dead batteries to the side, pocket the device, and step over the corpse. At least I made it farther than that poor woman.

But now I know there are zombies in the building. I'm not sure how many, but even one zombie is dangerous. I slowly step through the darkness, swinging my torch back and forth. I see gurneys, gloves, and face masks littler every hallway. I consider checking a few rooms, but that would be a horrible idea. If there's a zombie in a room, then I'll make it aware of my presence if I go in there. And, if I check one room I'll want to check all of them. I'm only halfway across the floor when I encounter my first zombie, but not the kind I had expected. A therapy dog is sitting in the middle of the hallway wagging his tail, his deceased master right beside him. I crouch down and get closer to the dog, the pooch blinded. I'm close enough to touch him when he finally notices me. I expect him to attack, but he simply growls and stops wagging his tail. Odd, but not every zombie is the same. Then, I realize he's been gnawing on his master. I make a mental note to remember zombies are less likely to attack when fed. They might still attack, but even a small chance of not attacking is better than no chance at all. I thrust my torch near the dog, examining him. His flesh is greenish, his pelt is disgusting, and his teeth are rotten. He appears to have been a poodle in life, but now he's just another zombie. Blinded, mindless, and dangerous.

But it's a good thing I found him, now I know the virus has mutated and can take over animals. The creature is blind, so he's at least over a year old (after a year of not blinking their eyes dry out). That's useful information, and I store it away in the vault of my mind for later. Then, I move on. The beast growls as I pass him, but doesn't force me to shoot him. I don't want to kill him just for being there because the shot would alert every other zombie in the area. I smile when I'm on the third floor. Two down, eighteen to go. I once again stand and begin walking, careful not to put out my torch. The torch is just a stick with a cloth around the end of it, but it's better than stumbling around in the dark. I could relight it, but it would be hard. I'm forced to halt about a third of the way across this floor, a horde of zombies in front of me. Damn it. I memorize where all of them are, extinguish my torch, and slowly crouch down. I can relight my torch on the other side, but right now the heat would alert the zombies to my presence. I carefully work my way through the horde of the living dead, freezing when any one of them moves in the slightest. I'm almost to the other side when I run head first into a zombie's leg, the creature instantly hissing and lashing out. I flatten myself to the ground, the monster hitting one of his fellows. I quickly escape as the two begin to fight.

When I'm safe I relight my torch, then begin my ascent to the fourth floor. The entire horde behind me is fighting, so it should be easy to get out (most of them will permanently die). Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Right towards me. I slink into the shadows, put out my torch, and watch the woman zoom past me. She has a flashlight in her hand, so she's easy to make out. She screams at the zombies, raises one of her hands, and a bright flash illuminates the monsters. The whip in the woman's hand is coursing with electricity, and the creatures back away in fear. The woman who's holding the whip looks ready to go to war. She has a bulletproof vest on, a helmet, thick leather gloves, and thick boots. I can't quite make out what her pants are made out of, but I'd bet leather. She's wearing clothes that zombies can't bite through. Well, they still can, just not easily. I keep to the shadows and watch her, the woman approaching the monsters. All of them turn and flee in fear, but one is slowed by his busted leg. The woman grabs him, slaps her whip across his back, and yanks him after her. So, the monsters can be afraid and apparently still feel pain. A sinking part of my mind asks me the question I've already asked a thousand times. _Are these monsters still somewhat human? _I push the question aside for now and focus on the woman.

She rushes past me, her zombie briefly swinging his arm in my general direction. I carefully follow her up the stairs, making sure the strange woman doesn't become aware of my presence. She goes up to the fifth floor, takes a hard right, and enters an operation room. She drags the zombie over to a table, slams him down, and ties him to the table. But I'm not focused on that, I'm focused on the monstrosities around the room. A two headed child zombie locked in a dog's cage, one zombie with ten arms is chained to the wall, and a zombie with four heads is in a fish tank. It's only as I draw closer I realize these aren't freaks of nature, their extra appendages have been sewn on. Oh dear Mara. This psychotic bitch is sewing zombies together. I quickly try to backtrack out of the room, but freeze when I see what the woman is doing. She's fixing the zombie's leg. She's using a metal rod and some stitches to fix him, and when she unties him he's able to stand. I get out of his way as he charges out of the room, but then a thought hits me. SHE'S A DOCTOR! A psychotic one who's messing with dangerous creatures, but still a doctor. The gods must love me, why else would they give me such a perfect opportunity? The woman is cleaning up the table when I manage to sneak up behind her, my gun in my hand. I smile and lunge.

She screams as I put the gun to her head, but doesn't fight back. I snarl, "Hands against the wall.". When she's ready I quickly do a pat down, and find only a small gun and the whip on her. I take her weapons, then ask her, "You a doctor?". She snorts and tells me, "No, I'm Scooby fucking Doo.". A sharp hit to her knee gets her to shut up. I quickly tell her, "You're coming with me.". She laughs and tells me, "I don't think so.". I shrug, aim the gun at her foot, and shoot it. She collapses on the ground and begins screaming, "YOU BITCH!". I kick her in the side and tell her, "Dig that bullet out of your foot, tie the wound up, and come with me.". She growls at me, but does as she's told. When the bullet is out of her foot and she's standing I tell her, "You're going to get all of your little medical supplies, gather all your tools, and come with me. Then, you're gonna fix my friend up so they can walk. But first, I have a few questions.". She rolls her eyes and sits down on the operating table, still eyeing my gun. The first thing I ask is, "Where the hell did you get medical training like that?". She scoffs and answers, "In New York.". I ask, "How many medical supplies do you have and what kind?". She looks almost proud as she answers, "The only thing I can't do is open heart surgery and brain surgery. Not because of skill, but because of sanitary reasons.".

I ask my final question, "Can you fix someone with a compound fracture?". She shrugs and says, "I can't put a metal rod in their leg, but I can make it to where all they need is time. So, I can disinfect, stitch, and clean the wound. But it'll take a few weeks before they could walk. Why? Little lover boy back at camp break his leg?". I smack her with the butt of my gun and tell her, "Get your ass up and get moving, we're going to Indian Point.". She refuses to move and snarls, "I'm not doing shit.". I point the gun at her other foot, and the woman quickly stands up. I press my gun to her back, flip her towards the exit, and tell her, "Get your stuff and get moving.". She gathers her stuff, then tells me she's ready to go. I once again place my gun to her back, forcing her to move. As we walk she tells me, "You're going to kill me once I heal your friend.". I scoff and tell her, "Only if you fuck up. I'll keep you captive until her leg is healed, then release you. Then, you can go back to your fucked up science show.". She keeps walking, but counters, "You might still kill me.". I press my gun harder into her back and tell her, "That's a chance you'll have to take. You do well and you live or you fuck up and you die. Now, shut up and walk.". The zombies cleared out when they saw her, so we're able to make it out of the hospital without a fight. We slowly walk through the woods, towards Indian Point. Towards the Survivor.


	14. House Call

The doctor trips when she enters our house, but I simply kick her as I walk by. I lock the door, yank the woman to her feet, and walk her into the living room. Unfortunately, we have to walk by the kitchen. I cleaned the children, but to a doctor it must be clear what those bones are. She shakes her head and tells me, "Disgusting.". I peak into the survivor's room to make sure she's asleep, turn to the insane doctor, and tell her, "It's fucked up, but we're eating like queens. Tell my friend what she's eating and I'll blow your brains out.". She looks grim and nods. I put my gun up, but leave it at the ready. The doctor curses me as I drag her into the teenager's room, and the teen in question wakes up and looks confused. I lean into the doctor and whisper, "You're a friendly doctor who's here to help us. Tell her the truth and you'll be dinner.". For once she actually seems afraid. So, cannibalism scares the mad surgeon. Good, I have something to use in the future. The survivor is now wide awake, and looking at us with confusion in her eyes. I smile and tell her, "I found a helpful doctor at the hospital. She was helping some fellow survivors, but she thinks you're of utmost importance. She'll examine your wound and do what she can for your injury. Okay?". The teen nods and sits up a little straighter, her leg outstretched.

The doctor walks over, unwraps the wound, and cringes. She pulls out some ointments, creams, bandages, and stitching supplies. The surgeon peels back the skin, adjust the muscles, and asks, "Who set the bone?". I promptly tell her, "Me.". She blinks and says, "You did an okay job, but parts of the bone are shattered. If you didn't have me, then the bone shards would have stopped the healing.". She pulls a glove from her pack, puts it on, and begins picking out large shards of bone. When the large pieces are taken care of she tells me, "The smaller pieces will get dissolved by the body, so that's taken care of. Now, do you want me to force the bone together?". I have no idea what she's talking about, so I ask her to explain it. She rolls her eyes and says, "I can _technically _staple the pieces of bone together. It'll heal faster, but I'll have to go in and remove the staples.". I quickly ask, "Is this an actual medical practice or did you invent it?". She scoffs and says, "New York does it.". New York might do it now, but they didn't before zombies rose from the ground. I tell her, "Don't staple anything.". She sighs, but goes back to work. While she positions the bone I go and unchain the teen, the red-haired woman rubbing her wrist. I pat her on the shoulder and promise, "I'll never do that again.". She nods and tells me, "You better not.". I can't help laughing.

After the bone is taken care of the doctor adjust the muscles, occasionally rubbing a cream or ointment on the red meat. Finally, she places the skin back where it belongs. The teenager has been taking deep breathes through the entire thing, obviously in some sort of pain. I reach out and grasp her hand, supporting her. She squeezes my hand as the stitches go through her skin, the black lace standing out against her hairy leg. I suddenly notice how filthy we are. Unshaven, uncleaned, and I think I can actually see some bugs in the teen's hair. We need to bathe. Soon. Then, I hear the woman whimper in pain and decide to tackle one problem at a time. When the stitching is done I look outside and see the sun about to sit. I promptly tell the doctor, "Give her some pain medicine, then follow me to your room.". The teenager thanks the insane woman, takes her pills, and snuggles down for bed. I drag the doctor out of the room, yank her into the only other bedroom, and push her onto the bed. I put the chain of the handcuffs through the bed rails, put a cuff around each of her wrist, and tell her, "Remember, you could be dinner.". For some reason I like the fear on her face. I close her door, go to the kitchen, grab some cold bowls of child stew, and go to the teenager's bedroom. I quickly shake her awake.

She rubs her eyes, spots the soup, and thanks me. When we're done eating I put the bowls on the bedside table, scoot the teen over, and climb into bed beside her. She seems surprised by me climbing into bed with her (there's no way I'm sleeping with the doctor or on the couch), but she quickly wraps her arms around me. She leans up, kisses me on the cheek, and says, "Good night.". I smile and answer, "Good night.". I snuggle down beside the woman, wrapping my arms around her. It's hot as hell in the room, but I like the feel of another living body beside me. Makes me feel a little less alone in this desolate world. I'm close to snoozing when the teen leans over, and quickly pecks my lips. Seems she isn't that tired after all. I smile, shake my head, and once again try to go back to sleep. But after a few minutes she repeats the action, but holds it for a little longer. I have a good idea of what she's doing, but don't respond. She's a teenager, and she's discovered the joys of what kissing another person can do to her hormones. Now she just wants to test her boundaries, and see how long she can kiss me. If I was her age I would be kissing her as fast as I could (in all honesty probably trying to get a hand under her shirt), but I'm not. I'm a fifty-year old woman, and I like quite a few things more than I like kissing. Like sleep.

She kisses me once again, but I reach up and push her away. The teenager leaves me alone for a few minutes, but once again returns. I allow her one last kiss, then open my eyes and ask, "Isn't your leg hurting you?". She shakes her head and answers, "Strong painkillers, like the stuff they gave me when I got that infection. I won't feel it for a while.". Then, she resumes kissing me. When she pulls back I roll my eyes and tell her, "Sleep.". She scoffs and counters, "Kiss.". I kiss her back, but when we're done kissing I ask, "What's with the sudden kissing spree?". It's dark, but I can see her blush as she answers, "You've just done so much for me, and I haven't kissed you since Oklahoma.". I once again roll my eyes and explain to her, "You don't need to feel obligated to kiss me, now go to sleep.". I close my eyes, but the teenager is persistent. I almost groan when I feel her lips once again touch mine, but this time they don't move. I've never cursed my age before, but now I do. I'm extremely fit for my age, but this is the first time I'd truly prefer sleep over making out. However, the child remains persistent and I give in. She seems surprised when I kiss her back, but happily kisses me with more ferocity. I know I shouldn't be kissing her for a multitude of reasons, and for once I don't care. I killed, gutted, and ate some children. Kissing one isn't doing nearly as much harm.

She's clearly inexperienced in kissing, so I show her how. I twine my hands in her tangled hair and pull her closer, trapping her head in my hands. She allows me to dominate the kiss. I use my thumbs to press against her jaw bone, the teenager popping her mouth open. I slip my tongue into her mouth, the young woman completely taken back by the slippery muscle entering her mouth. She's obviously a little put off (I'm certain this custom is considered unclean in the cities), but allows me to keep going. After a while she seems to enjoy it, but I could just be imagining that. The first thing I notice about her mouth is the fact the inside of her bottom lip is little more than a bloody piece of meat, she obviously bites it frequently. The second thing is the fact her own tongue is lying in her mouth like a dead fish, the teenager completely unsure of what to do. I ignore her incompetence and show her what to do, slowly leading her through the motions. When she's gotten the hang of it I simply relax, enjoying something I haven't had in thirty years. Eventually I tire of kissing her (although that's after a while) and pull away, the teenager smirking. I chuckle and ask, "Sleep?". She nods and says, "Sleep.". I snuggle down, rest my head on my pillow, and go to sleep.

* * *

I'm woken up by the click of a gun. I reach into my bra, pull my knife from it, and wait. I see a shadow go over to the teenager, and see something put up to her head. I throw my knife without hesitation. The doctor dies and falls to the floor, grasping the knife sticking from her chest. Thankfully, the entire event was silent and the teenager sleeps on. I slide out of the woman's grip, crawl out of bed, and examine the body. The chains on her wrist are shattered, the gun in her hand is mine, and the knife is still sticking from her chest. Damn, that was faster than I thought. I was guessing it would be a week before she tried to kill me. It seems everyone that joins us dies within a few hours. I should be concerned, but I couldn't care less. As long as the teenager is alive I'm fine. I yank the knife from the doctor, silently drag her from the room, grab a rag, and wipe up the blood. I'll tell the teen that the doctor had to return to hospital. Or something like that. All I need is to get the teenager to believe it.

I'm about to throw the woman out the window when I realize something. More food. I drag the woman over to the butchering area and begin chopping, the sun slowly rising as I do. When she's cleaned and gutted I make her into stew. Finally, I pick up the bowls and head into the survivor's room, a smile on my face. She happily gulps down the soup, then questions me on the doctor. I lie and tell her, "She went back to the hospital. She says your leg will be better in six weeks.". She nods and goes back to eating. Suddenly, she asks me, "When are we leaving?". I choke on some child meat and ask, "What do you mean?". She looks confused and answers, "To Canada.". I hadn't even thought about going north. I quickly tell her, "You're hurt.". She counters, "We need to move.". We keep debating what to do, but finally I tell her, "Fine, I'll find a way to transport us. But for right now let's focus on healing.". She nods and says, "Agreed.". I nod and go back to eating, my mind racing.


	15. Transportation

After breakfast I kiss the teenager, say goodbye, and head out. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but I look. I need a way to transport two people and supplies, so I head back to the car. If I can save it, great. If I can't, oh well. I don't find any zombies on my way there, but I can see the signs of them. Scratch marks on the road, bits of limbs, and smears of blood. When I find the car I groan, the machine a crumpled pile of metal. It's a miracle we survived. However, I look for parts. I manage to rip open the hood, examine the engine, and save a lot of the precious things. It's most of the engine besides the shell. So, I'm able to carry everything, but in essence I have a engine in my pockets. The tires can be saved, the seats are removable, and I could remove the gas from the tank if needed. Then, I slowly walk down the road. I find a few cars, but only two of them could be salvaged. Both are upright, the engines are still in 'decent' condition (the engines are wrecked, but I could fix them), and I could possibly remove their tires. Every tire on the cars are rotten, but I should be able to remove them one by one. However, there's one more problem. We need a car with windows to block our scent from zombies. One car is perfectly fine, but the other has a shattered windshield. I guess I know which one I'm going to fix. I quickly try to go to work.

I need to lift the car off the ground, but I'll need a jack for that. I search the cars scattered along the road, and find one. It's rusted, ancient, and looks about ready to break, but it'll work. I walk back to the chosen car, make sure the parking brake is one, and go to the back of the vehicle. I'm not sure how much the jack can lift, but the car is rather small. I couldn't tell the model or year of the car if my life depended on it, all I know is it has four intact doors, it's low to the ground, and it's paint is so faded it looks grey. I snap out of my thoughts and go back to jacking up the car. I carefully install the jack stand under a solid, structural piece of the vehicle frame. I'm about to start pumping when I realize that this probably isn't safe. I'll need at least two jacks. I groan and go back to searching, triumphantly letting out a yell when I manage to find one. Suddenly, I feel a hand claw at the back of my shirt. I curse and leap to the side, a popping noise coming from behind me. I flip around and see a zombie mashing its jaws together in hunger. Without thinking I blow its brains out, the monster falling to the ground. Damn, I have to work fast. I return to the car, position the second jack, and begin pumping. When that's done the back half of the car is up in the air. I walk over to the tires, examining the lug nuts. The front tires have all of their lug nuts, but the back tires are missing a few.

It's debatable if that's good or bad. It'll make it easier to remove the rotted tires, but the new wheels might not be secured properly. Each tire should be secured with six lug nuts, but the left back tire only has four and the right back tire only has three. I'm not an expert on cars, but it _should _be able to drive just fine. Maybe a little bit of a bumpy ride, so I'll do most of the driving. I don't doubt the teenager's skills, but I've been driving longer than she's been alive (not to mention her broken leg). I go back to fixing the car, examining inside the vehicle for a wrench. I once again let out a sound of joy when I find one, then mentally discipline myself and shut up. I quickly go outside the car, make sure it's secure, and begin to remove the lug nuts from the back right tire. I carefully place the nuts into my pocket that isn't holding the engine pieces. When the nuts are removed I take the rotten tire off and throw it into the ditch by the side of the road. I repeat the process with the other back tire, my sweat beginning to become uncomfortable. I walk over to our wrecked car, clamber onto the top of it, and take off the back tires (I throw the nuts into the ditch). I look over and realize the front right tire is wrecked. Damn. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. I take the two tires and roll them over to the car I plan on fixing up. I quickly place them, reattach the nuts, and step back. It took all day, but I've changed two of the four tires. I still need to fill the car with gas, fix the ruined engine, and change two other tires (and find a completely new tire since one of the tires on the wrecked car can't be saved). I have a lot of work left, but I can't do it today. Night is falling, and soon the zombies will be out. I sigh and head back to the cabin, the car still half in the air.

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

I blow air past my pucker lips, trying to whistle. I've been trying for the past few hours, but there's nothing else to do. I could always count the seconds between the throbs of pain in my leg (usually around thirty seconds), but I did that all morning. When I first tried to whistle I couldn't even get a sound out, but now a high squeak comes from my mouth. I've seen Delphine whistle a thousand times, she can even whistle beautiful tunes when she puts her mind to it. However, I don't think I'll ever master the skill. I have no idea where Delphine or the kind doctor are, but I'm not concerned. They'll come back eventually, they always do. It's actually starting to concern me how much I'm coming to rely on my elder. I brush the feeling off when I hear the door open and close, someone returning. I hear movement in the kitchen, and see a shadow being thrown across the living room. From where I sit I can only see the living room and a small part of the balcony, but I've learned where the layout of the cabin is. And, Delphine usually only goes to the kitchen when she's going to get food. My stomach growls in anticipation. When Delphine walks in I see the bowls of stew in her hand. We've had the same delicious meal for the last few days, and I happily dig into the food. However, I stop when Delphine clears her throat.

I wipe my face and wait for her to speak. She tells me, "The doctor had to return to the hospital to tend to other patients, but she told me what to do. And, I found a way for us to keep going to Canada!". She quickly explains what she's planning on doing, our food cooling as she speaks. When she's done relaying her plan I tell her, "That's wonderful! Too bad about the doctor, she seemed really nice. Will we see her again?". Delphine shrugs and answers, "Maybe.". I hope we do, this world needs people like her. Delphine is extremely kind, but the doctor went out of her way to treat me. I spoon some soup in my mouth, the tiny cubes of meat exploding with flavor. When my meal is done I ask my elder, "Do you want me to help with the car?". My heart sinks when I see something spark in her eyes. Worry? Concern? Pity? I pray it isn't the last one, I can't stand the thought of being pitied. In St. Louis pity means you're weak. The weak die of sickness, huddled up in the streets with snot running down their faces. Delphine blinks and the expression is gone, but she tells me, "All you can do is get better, and not let this beat you. Understand?". I nod. Delphine takes our bowls and goes into the kitchen. I sigh and pucker my lips, once again trying to whistle.

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

I slowly sort through the doctor's stuff, and divide everything into three piles. Medicine, survival supplies, and junk. Medicine obviously goes in the medicine pile, survival supplies consist of food and weapons, and junk is mainly just stacks of medical papers she deemed important enough to bring. When everything is sorted I put the medicine in a first aid kit, put the survival supplies with our own, and I can't decide what to do with the junk. The survivor likes reading, so I suppose I'll just give them to her. I shrug and walk into her room, the papers in my hand.

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

I press my tongue against the top of my mouth, open my mouth, and slowly bite down. The spit gland under my tongue sprays a small burst of water, the spit splattering the blanket on me. I recently learned how to do that (whistling didn't go well), and it's my new form of entertainment. However, I stop when Delphine walks into the room. I'm not sure how 'girlfriends' (is that what Delphine called it?) act around one another, but I'm pretty sure they don't spit at each other. My elder puts some papers on my lap and tells me, "The doctor brought some medical reports with her, but she left them behind. I can't go out to return them, so I thought you might like reading them. If the doctor needs them, then she'll come back for them.". I smile, thank Delphine, and begin the flip through the pages. Most of them are uninteresting, but a specific one catches my attention. Twenty pictures are on the page, the first one is a human and the last one is a zombie. The pictures in between show the progress of the disease. Interesting. I flip the page. On this one there's the exact same thing, but with a different person. I look closely and realize the disease took longer to progress. I flip the page again, rather bored of looking at zombies. The next ten pages are the EXACT SAME THING. Only, each page appears to take the person longer to become a zombie. The last page shows the doctor herself. She shows early signs of infection, but by the last panel she's perfectly fine. I flip the page one last time, a report on the back.

_Patient 978219 confirmed alive and well. Virus killed, no signs of infection, immunity tested and confirmed. Vial ZWXZ sent with patient and crack team to Oklahoma City, arrival date estimated July 6, 2051. Stop off for fuel in Harrisberg, Pennsylvania and Branson, Missouri. Vial ZWXZ only known disinfectant of its kind, only one specimen available for diagnosis. Do not fail, only stop in the designated areas. Patient 978219 known anarchist and psychotic medical professional. Keep patient and ZWXZ under tight lock and key, there is NO KNOWN REPLACEMENT. - Elisif the Kind_

Neat, Elisif the kind wrote this note. I have no idea what the report means, but it must have been important if the self proclaimed 'queen' wrote it. She's suppose to rule me, but I've never seen her. I rub my aching eyes and put the papers down, done reading for now. I sigh and pucker my lips. Time to see if I can whistle. Again.


	16. A Broken Moral Compass

I manage to make a high-pitched whistle, but stop when Delphine all but flies into the room with her gun drawn. She looks around and asks, "What was that?". I sheepishly tell her, "I was whistling.". She gives me an exasperated look, puts her gun up, and turns to leave. Before she can escape I ask her, "What are you doing?". She freezes and tells me, "Preparing food.". I nod even though she can't see me, and tell her, "Okay. Do you think we'll be leaving any time soon?". She obviously can sense I want to have a conversation, so she turns back around. She shrugs and answers my question, "I'd guess in roughly four or five days at best, maybe a week or two at the worst. Do you think you'll be able to make it to the car? I'll drive it up here to help, but it's still a little bit of a walk. I could always carry you if you want.". I simply tell her, "I can manage. Probably.". Delphine smiles and says, "That's the spirit. I'll go get us some food. Any preference to how it's prepared? I can make some meat grilled or roasted instead of souped.". I love the soup, but I think I would like to try it some other way. I tell Delphine I'd like it grilled, and the woman quickly leaves to prepare the food. It seems like we aren't doing much. Well, I'm not doing much. Just sitting around, eating, and relying on Delphine. I sigh, and go back to whistling.

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

I pick up some parts of the doctor, take them outside to the balcony, and begin to go about starting a fire. I'm glad the teenager wanted her meat grilled, we're almost out of water for stew. The lake _seems_ clean, but the zombie virus could be anywhere. I quickly prepare the teenager's food, put it in a bowl, and return to her. She grins when she sees the food, and digs in when I give it to her. I'm not hungry, so I simply sit and watch the woman eat. The filthy girl tears into her food without thought, makes noises like a dog, and shows no knowledge of utensils. I never looked at the teenage while she ate, but I can now clearly see the signs of the city in the way she handles herself. I briefly remember all the food I use to throw away, and how I would have been disgusted if someone ate like that. But now I understand, and couldn't really care. The teenager is filthy, starved, and doesn't care about her manners, but I'm the exact same. I crack my back, moan at the relief I feel, and begin to get ready for bed. When I climb into bed I once again feel the woman try to kiss me. I don't try fighting, I simply allow the teenager to kiss me. She kisses me for a few minutes, then settles down to sleep. I move a little to get comfortable, and feel a piece of paper under my elbow. I pick it up and about to throw it away, but stop when I notice Elisif's signature.

I rub my eyes, squint in the darkness, and try to read what's on the paper. My eyes are probably about to pop open my skull by the time I'm done reading. The damned doctor was immune to the zombie virus (but in the end not knives), the group of zombies must have been her 'crack team', and she had a cure with her. I'm not sure where the hell the vial of ZWXZ is, but there's no way in hell I'll find it. The psychotic doctor probably smashed it against some wall or threw it down a drain. That bitch had the ability to save the world, and she ended up being our lunch. I could look in every single room of the hospital, but I doubt I would find it. Suddenly, the survivor asks, "Something wrong?". I crumble the paper into a ball, throw it over my shoulder, and answer, "Nothing.". She nods and curls up near me, wrapping her arms around me. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but I can't. I end up staying awake all night, the teen happily sleeping beside me. When the sun rises I sneak out of the room, prepare breakfast (some leftover doctor), and bring the food into the teenager. I wake her up, give her the food, and sit down to enjoy a nice breakfast with her. When the food is done I pat her on the leg, then tell her, "I have to go work on the car.". I pop my extra gun from my belt and give it to her. She examines the weapon and asks, "What's this for?".

It's so she can kill herself if I die while I'm out, but I tell her, "In case of an emergency.". She nods and says, "Good-bye.". I nod and quickly leave, making sure my remaining gun is ready. I see a few zombies near the house, but I manage to sneak around them. When I reach the car I quickly put down the jacks, move them to the front of the car, jack it up, and take off the ruined tires. Then, I go to the ruined car and get the one remaining tire. Now the car has three good tires, but is still missing one. I sigh, begin examining the cars along the road, and take the tire in the best condition. It's still a crappy tire, but it'll do. Finally, the car has four tires. I smile, sigh, and sit down. My sweat is soaking through my shirt, but I can't take it off. After a few minutes of resting, I force myself to stand back up and go to work. I jack the car down, force the hood open, and groan when I look inside. A engine gasket is cracked, oil has exploded all over the place, the bracket is broken, and a major fuel line has been cut. Damn it, this will take a while to fix. I sigh, take off my shirt, and begin to wipe up the oil. It doesn't help much, but any help is still help. It takes all day, but eventually the oil is gone. I look up at the sky, the moon high in the sky. Damn it, I was out longer than I was suppose to be. It's a miracle zombies haven't found me. I blink, shrug, and go back to work. If I'm going to be late, then I might as well be damn late.

* * *

**Survivor POV:**

I'm seriously considering masturbating when I hear the door open, and that idea is thrown out the window. I know I probably shouldn't have been considering the act in the first place (I learned in school that it can cause blindness and carpal tunnel), but I'M BORED! I'm safe, well fed, and warm, but I can feel my mind slowly rotting from the inside out. However, I have more pressing matters when Delphine comes into the room. She's smiling, her teeth standing out against her grubby face. The woman comes into the room, throws her hands up in the air, and tells me, "It's done.". I look out the window and tell her, "It's the middle of the night.". My elder nods and tells me, "It is, but we need to go. I'll take the supplies to the car, fill it with gas, and drive up here. You ready to go?". I'm absolutely not ready to go, I thought we would still have a few days. Then again, what better time than the present? I'm not going to get magically get better in a few days, and we need to go. So, I nod and tell her, "Do what you have to do?". I hear the woman gather our things, and see her leave with the supplies in her arms. When she's gone I once again revive the idea of masturbating, but decide I don't have enough time. It turns out I do, but I'm too paranoid. If something went wrong I could hurt myself. My leg is injured, and I don't want to explain to Delphine how I manage to rip the stitches out of the skin.

When Delphine returns her face is grave, and I know what it means. She clears her throat and tells me, "The zombies heard the engine starting, and I ended up having to hotwire the car. I'm lucky to be alive, but the monsters are still coming.". I'm about to say something, but Delphine cuts me off by crossing over to me, collecting me in her arms, and heaving me up. My leg begins to spasm in pain, but I manage to control it and try to mentally block out the pain. I can't, and end up whimpering on the way to the car. Damn my weakness. I close my eyes, take deep breaths, and ignore Delphine's hurried footsteps. Finally, I'm dumped into the seat and Delphine sits down beside me. I hear her start the car, but the engine only stutters. My elder curses, does it a few more times, and sighs when the car finally roars to life. I feel the metal contraption begin to move, and manage to put my seatbelt on. The belt is rotten and green, but I keep it on. My leg is proof of what happens in a car wreck. I look out the window, watching the world fly past. I ask Delphine, "Where are we going?". My elder leans over, pats me on the shoulder, and tells me, "Canada.". I chuckle, rest my head against the weak glass window, and closer my eyes, allowing sleep to take me.

* * *

**Delphine POV:**

I see the car's headlights before they see mine. I pull off to the side of the road, shut my lights off, and wait. Eventually, a car with _Des Moines _written on the side flies past. I groan, it's been this way even since we arrived in Iowa. The state was one of the few to hold out, and even now they're still trying to hang on to 'civilized' life. If we were caught, then we would be taken in, examined, and reintegrated into the normal population. Thankfully, we haven't been caught yet. When the car is long gone I flip on my light (damn it, only one of them is working now) and pull onto the road. The survivor is still asleep, slightly snoring. I look at her out of the corner of my eye, watching her chest slowly fall and rise. Now that we're safe I have a sudden urge to have a more 'physical' relationship with the teenager. I've come to terms with the fact that she likes me, she hasn't been taught 'women who have sex are whores', and she's probably been wanting to have sex with me since Branson. However, I still want to wait for a little bit. Her leg needs to men properly, I don't want to take her virtue (if she still has that) in the back of the car, and I'm still feeling guilty about what I did back in Missouri. There might have been a change that the cure for all of humanity was in that hospital, but I didn't even look. I shake my head, force those thoughts from my head, and keep driving. I did the right thing. The survivor is safe, I'm safe, and we have a ton of food to get by for a while. I did the right thing. I must have.


	17. Endings

I pull off the main road, cut the engine, and wake the teen up. She smiles and asks, "What's going on?". I tell her, "We're in Iowa. Only a few hours from Minnesota, then Canada.". She nods, then asks, "Why did we stop?". I inwardly roll my eyes and tell her, "I need to rest, and you can't drive.". She looks a little upset, but nods and accepts my decision. I pull out some cooked doctor and hand it to her, the woman devouring her meal. I eat my own food, then stretch. I'm somewhat tired, but not by much. When we're done eating I ask the teenager, "How's your leg feel?". She taps the appendage, then tells me, "It's okay. I took some painkillers earlier, so it's actually pretty numb. Hey, can I ask you something?". I hold back a sarcastic reply, and nod. The teenager gets comfortable and asks me, "What did people like me and you do when they liked each other?". I cock my head and tell her, "You've asked me that before.". She blushes scarlet red, and tells me, "That's not what I meant.". I suddenly realize what she means, and I quickly tell her, "I'll answer that question by demonstrating, and only when your leg is better.". She looks down at her wound and complains, "But that'll take weeks!". I nod and tell her, "I know.". She sighs, but whines, "Can't it be sooner?". Damn, she's more ready than I thought.

I clear my throat and ask her, "When would you like to?". She looks almost thrilled as she says, "Now.". I can't help rolling my eyes. I tell the woman, "Absolutely not. How about a compromise?". She quickly nods, somewhat less excited. I think of something, then tell her, "When we're in Canada and we're in a safe place.". She knocks on the car window and tells me, "This is a safe place, and we're almost in Canada. You can almost show me.". I sigh and tell her, "No.". She looks absolutely crestfallen, but nods and glumly tells me, "Fine.". She yawns, covering her mouth. I myself am barely able to hold back a yawn and suddenly remember how filthy we are. I tell her, "Go to sleep, I'm going to move the car real quick.". She nods and snuggles up as best she can in the seat, tucking her head on her shoulder and going to sleep. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but I know when I find it. A small stream, bustling down the rocky terrain. The teenager is afraid of water, but she can't drown in this. It's perfect. I once again turn the car off, position myself, and close my eyes.

* * *

I slowly wake up, looking around. No zombies, bandits, or anything else. I rouse the teen and tell her, "Do you wish to clean yourself before breakfast?". She happily nods, and allows me to carry her out of the car. I relieve her of her clothes, place them on the side of the stream, and take her over to the water. I make sure to prop her leg out of the water, but the rest of her body is in the stream. I to get naked and wade into the stream, the water clean and pure. I don't even doubt that the virus isn't in this water. When the woman's hair is soaked I splash over to her, and begin untangling her red locks. She sighs and closes her eyes in content, allowing me to run my fingers through her wet hair. When it's back to normal I tell her, "Wash off your body, I have to take care of my own hair.". I wanted to shave my skull, but I don't have a razor with me. I have a few knives, but they're too sharp to shave with. So, I untangle my own hair, then begin to scrub the dirt from my body with my hands. Finally, I wade over to our clothes and begin to wash them. I lay them out in the sun, and the teenager and I simply stay in the water and enjoy the feel of the stream. When our clothes are dry we exit the river, dry off, and dress. I look over and can't help starring at the teenager. She was attractive before, but now she's a thousand times prettier. Her long, fiery locks cascade down her back, her grass green eyes seem to sparkle, and her sugary skin is clean. Damn, why did I tell her to wait? I shake the inappropriate thoughts from my head, and tell the teenager, "Come on, let's go back to the car.". She nods, and allows me to once again carry her to the car.

My arms are burning from the exertion of carrying her back and forth, but I don't complain. It's not her fault she got injured. I start the car, find the main road, and once again begin driving. I see a sign that reads _Saint Paul Ahead. _I shrug and decide to go into the city, we're protected in our car. The streets are littered with garbage, but I'm able to go around it. Suddenly, the teenager lets out a loud gasps. I slam on the brakes, pull out my gun, and look around. The teenager is pointing out the window, and when I look I see she's pointing at a movie theater. I hold in an exasperated sigh because I know what exactly what she's going to ask. She says (just as I expected), "What's that?". I quickly explain, "It's a place where people would gather to eat, watch movies, and have sex in the dark corners.". The teen's eyes grow wide, she looks at the place again, and asks, "What's '_Titanic_'?". It suddenly occurs to me she never would have been taught that a gigantic ship sunk hundreds of years ago (and was made into a romantic movie), so I elaborate, "It's a romantic movie. Now, come on.". The teenager reaches over to stop me from driving away and asks me, "What's it about?". I shrug and answer, "It's hard to explain.". She blinks and asks, "Can we watch it?". I begin explaining the difficulties and risks of going into the theater, looking for a film, locating the generator (I use to work in the movies when I was a teen, so I know where one would be), and playing the movie. I'm not even sure why a movie theater is playing _Titanic_ years after it was released (assuming they shut down in 2020, that's still a long time), so the movie might not even be in there. But the extremely saddened look on the teenager's face stops me. I don't see any zombies in the area, and the teen deserves a little happiness in this world. So, I sigh and tell her, "Come on, I'll carry you.".

I heave her into my arms, shut the car door, and rush her into the building. I honestly can't believe I'm doing this. I take her inside, find a clean theater, and place her in a seat dead center of the place. I hand her a gun and tell her, "Shoot anything that isn't me.". It takes a few hours, but I manage to secure the place. No zombies, all exits and entrances are blocked, and everything is safe. I find the generator shoved into a corner, untouched. Strange, but there seems to be a lot of useful stuff in here. An ancient camera that instantly develops the film into pictures, some bullets (they don't fit either of our guns, but I keep them), and a hunting knife. I pocket everything, and begin searching for the movie. I find _What Dreams May Come, The Fault In Our Stars, Romeo and Juliet _(the old version), and _All That Heaven Allows. _Seems the theater was going on a depressing/romantic movie spree. I'm about to settle for _What Dreams May Come _when I see one last film out of the corner of my eye. I pick it up and sigh in relief. _Titanic. _I honestly fell asleep during the film, and never felt a need to watch it a second time. Granted, I was foolish enough to think the film would be historically accurate. But if the teenager wants to watch it, then I can stomach it. Besides, it's been too long since I've watched a movie.

I grab the generator, put the film under my armpit, and begin dragging it into the 'restricted' area of the theater. I get everything set up, stick my head out into the theater, and ask her, "Are you ready?". She gives me a thumbs up, and I start the film. When I worked at the theater my boss always told me, "Someone needs to watch over the playing movie at all times.". I did once, then goofed off every time after that. No film ever caught on fire, stopped playing, or randomly exploded. So, I've generally accepted that nobody needs to make sure the film keeps playing correctly. I run down to the theater, bar the doors, and take a seat by the teenager. I pull out some pieces of doctor, and offer them to the teen. She happily snatches them up and devours them, and I follow her lead. The traditional dish is popcorn, but human meat will have to do. I lean back, allow the survivor to curl up into my side, and watch the movie. I've seen the movie before, but to the teenager it's completely new. She seems impressed with the simple fact we're able to watch a movie on a screen this big. I usually hate when people talk during the movie, but I allow the teen to ask questions. Most of them are answered in a few seconds, but occasionally I have to answer one of her concerns. Her main one is, "Is this a true story?". Without thinking I answer, "Yes.". It only occurs to me a few seconds later she meant the romance part, not the ship part. I turn to correct myself, but stop when I see the look of wonder on the younger woman's face.

I'll let her think that the story is true, nobody is going to correct her. I once again lean back, watching the movie. The teenager is thrilled with the movie, she gasps in the right places, laughs on the few appropriate occasions, and leans forward in suspense whenever she should. However, there's one major problem. The film must have been cut by someone (or a rat) because it randomly stops playing, and right after Rose and Jack were clinging to the railing. I shrug and say, "I guess someone cut the film. Oh well.". But it's not 'oh well' to the teenager. She turns to me with shock in her eyes and asks, "What happened?". Jack died, Rose got married to someone she could never truly love, told the story to a handful of people, and she threw some necklace into the ocean. But I can tell that would absolutely destroy the teenager, so I tell her, "A lifeboat saved both of them, they went back to New York, got married, had tons of babies, and lived happily ever after. The end.". The smile on the teen's face tells me she's pleased with my ending, and she doesn't question it. The teenager relaxes, and snuggles into my side. I feel a twinge of guilt for taking advantage of the teenager's ignorance, but brush it aside. We enjoy each other's company for a little while, then the teenager reaches up and pecks me on the cheek. I smile, turn my head to say something, and feel the teenager capture my lips with hers. I sigh into the kiss and simply enjoy it, but I'm forced to make a major decision when I feel the teen's hand come up to my breast. It's clear she wants something, and I know exactly what. She's willing, and wants to have sex. Now. We aren't in a car, we're safe, and my moral compass is obviously shattered. What could it hurt to fuck a ignorant, underage teenager in the middle of a theater? I just ate a piece of a human being, how could this be worse?

I ask her, "Can you feel your leg?". When she shakes her head I make my decision. I pull up the armrests around us, stand up, and lay her across the makeshift couch. She gasps, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. She's not sure what I'm going to do (I'm actually not sure about that, I'm pretty sure her stepmother did _something _sexual to her), but she obviously wants it. It's a challenge to relieve her of her clothes, but I manage it. Damn, I should have gotten the woman naked back in Texas. Firm, high tits, small pink pebbles for nipples, a fiery cunt, sugary skin, and a tight, wet entrance that screams virgin. If her stepmother ever got in her pants, then it wasn't for long. I lean down and capture a nipple in my mouth, sucking and nibbling on the hardened flesh. The survivor gasps in shock and pleasure, twining her hands in my hair. I smile, but keep sucking. I trail one hand down her stomach, and stop above her entrance. I gingerly work one of my fingers into her, the woman moving her hips in discomfort. When I have one finger in her I stop sucking on her tit, and instead begin to kiss her. I don't want to hear her scream or whine when I break her hymen. I put one finger beside the one inside her, and thrust it into her. She rips her mouth away from mine and yelps, and begins yanking her hips away. I shush her and place my other hand on her stomach, holding her still. I calm her by telling her, "Wait a few seconds, you'll get use to it and enjoy it.".

I wait a few seconds, begin moving my fingers, and ask, "Better?". She shakes her head and ask, "Am I suppose to like this? This doesn't feel pleasurable at all. It's actually _really _uncomfortable. Can you not do this?". I sigh, remove my fingers, and tell her, "Fine, I'll try something else.". I travel down her body, spread her legs, and go to use my mouth on her. She instantly puts her hands in my way and asks, "What the hell are you doing?". I sigh and tell her, "Performing cunnilingus, now move your hands.". She doesn't move her hands, and tells me, "I have no idea what that is. What are you going to do?". I once again sigh and explain, "I'm going to use my mouth to fuck you. Trust me, you'll like it.". She looks skeptical and questions, "Is that sanitary?". I roll my eyes and tell her, "Yes, now move your hands before I decide you've killed the mood too much.". She quickly moves her hands, but still looks uncertain. I instantly thrust my face into her cunt, lapping at her entrance. I don't think it brings her that much pleasure, but it'll add to the mood and make her last longer. The main thing I do is bring two fingers up to her clit, and begin messing with it. She lets out a little moan, and starts to move her hips in time with my laps. She has absolutely no sexual stamina, only after a minute or two she orgasms with a deep sigh. I should probably stop, but I just keep going. She's yanking on my hair, but I don't stop until she cums again.

When that's done a brilliant idea hits me, and I grab the camera. I spread her legs, aim the camera at her weeping entrance, and take a few pictures. The woman is too busy to question me, and allows me to take a few pictures of her heaving breast. I wave the pictures in the air, look at them, and put them in my pocket. I can use those later. The teenager is still panting, her chest heaving as she tries to calm down. I suddenly realize I just took a woman's virginity. Shame should fill me, but instead I feel a strange pride. I'll always be her first. It may not matter to her, but she'll never be able to fix her broken hymen. I suddenly feel how wet I am, and I can't stop myself from slipping a hand into my pants. The teen looks like she wants to reach out to me, but she simply stays still as I masturbate to her naked body. When I finally finish I climb onto the chairs with her, the seats groaning under our weight. I nuzzle her neck, but I become distant. The teen notices and asks, "Is something wrong?". I clear my throat, and tell her something.

* * *

**So, I'm gonna do something different. This story is going to have multiple endings, and the reader will get to choose. So, make your choice.**

* * *

I tell her:

For the truth about everything: Read endings 1 &amp; 2

For the truth about the cure: Humanity Revived

For a lie: Yellowknife

* * *

**Endings 1 &amp; 2**

I tell her the truth. About everything. I'm not sure what I expect, but it isn't her reaction. Her face shows disgust, she stands up, and begins dressing. Damn, I thought sex was a emotional lock for teenage girls. I stand up and tell her, "Come on, don't be like that.". She turns around, kicks me, and begins storming out (hobbling on her injured leg). I follow her, begging her to calm down. She yells, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME LIKE THAT? YOU'RE SICK, YOU KNOW THAT? YOU'RE A SICK, FUCKED UP-". Her words are cut off as she storms outside, and a horde of zombies come charging down the street. I guess she was yelling louder than she thought. She may be pissed at me, but she runs (probably hurting her leg in the process) back into the theater with me. She destroyed a few of my barricades escaping, but I quickly put them back up. We turn and begin jogging to where we watched _Titanic, _but we don't make it in time. The teenager falls to the ground due to her injured leg, a zombie instantly falling on top of her. She screams and trashes, but I have to pull her from under the monster. I'm not sure how we managed to get back in the theater, but we do. I block the door, the zombies temporarily at bay. I sigh in relief and turn around, the teenager looking at her hand in horror. It's clear why. A chunk of it is missing, bitten clean off by a zombie. I move to comfort her, but stop when she motions at my arm. I see a large amount of blood on my skin. I wipe the liquid away and see-

* * *

**For clear skin go to: A Song Goodbye (Ending 1)**

**For a bite go to: The Taste Of Steel (Ending 2)**

* * *

**A Song Goodbye**

Clear skin. Not a single bite. I sigh in relief, then pause when I realize the teenager is still bitten. I slowly walk over to her, take her in my arms, and shush her. She wails, hugs me, and whispers, "I'm infected.". I pat her back and tell her, "Don't worry it'll-". She sadly chuckles and asks, "Be fine? No it won't.". I pat her back and tell her, "We'll think of something.". She pulls back and whispers, "Kill me.". I freeze and tell her, "No.". I see tears roll down her face and she says, "Please. I don't want to be like them. Please.". I shake my head and tell her, "I can't.". She yanks my gun from my belt, places it to her head, but just leaves it there. She closes her eyes, her finger slowly presses down, and she throws the gun to the ground. She's openly crying as she says, "I can't do it.". She looks at me and begs, "Please.". I slowly pick up the gun and tell her, "I'm not sure I can.". She takes my hand, places it against her head, and begs, "Please.". I swallow and ask, "Are you sure?". She nods, but tells me, "I want to know one thing.". When I nod she asks, "What happens when we die?". Nothing. We rot, become worm food, and nothing 'spiritual' happens. We're dead, nothing more. But she doesn't want to hear that, so I paint a picture of paradise for her. A heaven meant just for her, including everyone and everything she loves.

She sniffles, puts the gun to her skull, and whispers, "I love you.". I swallow and tell her, "I love you.". I pull the trigger, and nearly pass out when the woman falls to the ground, twitching. I missed. I had the gun point blank to her head, and I hit her spine. I cradle her in my arms, the woman unable to speak. I put the gun back to her head, but the weapon simply clicks. I'm out of bullets. The woman doesn't seem to realize what's going on, her eyes flicking from one place to another. But she must see me because her eyes lock on my face. She attempts to move her mouth, but she can't speak. Tears are rolling down my cheeks and landing on her face, baptizing her in my sorrow. I should snap her neck and stop her suffering, but I can't bring myself to do it. I fucked up killing her once, what if I do it again? I don't want her last moment to be as a paralyzed, defenseless creature. I wanted her to die with dignity, but I'm forcing her to slowly bleed out. I begin rocking her upper body, and doing the first thing I can think of to soothe her. I sing. It's the first song that comes to my mind.

"Tears that angels cry.  
And they darken all the sky.  
When the one you love says good-bye."

She's stopped twitching, but her eyes are still locked with mine.

"Tears that angels cry.  
Sing a lullaby.  
Sing it soft and only sigh.  
When the one you love says good-bye."

Her breathing is becoming shallow, and she's squinting to see me.

"Sing a lullaby.  
When your love still is strong."

Her eyes slowly become glassy, and she's struggling for breath.

"When the one you love is gone."

Her chest rises, and falls. Rises, and falls. Rises, and falls one last time. I let out a loud wail, the woman's eyes now two glass spheres. I hear the zombies bursting in, but I'm too busy mourning my lover to notice when they finally reach me.

_The End_

* * *

**The Taste Of Steel**

Five sharp punctures in my skin. Damn it. I walk over, collapse by the woman, and ask, "What do you want to do?". She whispers, "Kill me.". I freeze and tell her, "No.". I see tears roll down her face and she says, "Please. I don't want to be like them. Please.". I shake my head and tell her, "I can't.". She yanks my gun from my belt, places it to her head, but just leaves it there. She closes her eyes, her finger slowly presses down, and she throws the gun to the ground. She's openly crying as she says, "I can't do it.". She looks at me and begs, "Please.". I slowly pick up the gun and tell her, "I'm not sure I can.". She takes my hand, places it against her head, and begs, "Please.". I swallow and ask, "Are you sure? If you do, then I'm going after you.". She tries to argue, but I stand firm. I tell her, "I'm killing myself after I kill you, if you still want me to. Are you sure?". She nods, but tells me, "I want to know one thing.". When I nod she asks, "What happens when we die?". Nothing. We rot, become worm food, and nothing 'spiritual' happens. We're dead, nothing more. But she doesn't want to hear that, so I paint a picture of paradise for her.

A heaven meant just for her, including everyone and everything she loves. She nods and tells me, "I'm ready.". I look at my gun and tell her, "One bullet.". The survivor quickly motions at me, pulls a bullet from her pocket, and hands it to me. I load it and tell her, "Who first?". She puts the gun in her mouth and manages to slur, "I love you.". I swallow and tell her, "I love you.". I pull the trigger. Her beautiful eyes loose all of their shine, she collapses, and I feel tears stream down my face. I swallow, whisper one last endearment to her corpse, and place the gun in my mouth. I taste a little bit of steel, but it's mostly the size that gets me. It's far too big to be comfortable in my mouth. I swallow, gather my courage, conjure up the image of the survivor in my mind (I want her wonderful face to be my last sight), and pull the trigger.

_The End_

* * *

**Humanity Revived**

I tell her the truth, but only about the cure. She instantly argues about going back, but I don't want to. In the end she gets her wish. It takes months, but eventually I find the cure is some obscure corner of the hospital (why the doctor kept it I'll never know). We drive to New York, carefully rationing our gas, food, and bullets. Eventually we run out of food, the survivor's leg gets worse, and I'm certain I have a parasite. Finally, we reach the city. They arrest us, take care of us, and take us to court for being rebels. But we give them the cure, and they erase the incident. The survivor is patched up, her leg heals, and she gets to work as a 'adviser'. She travels to schools and tells the kids the dangers of the outside world, showing off her scar and telling of how many zombies almost infected her (it's easy to tell she over-exaggerates during those stories). I end up working as Elisif's personal guard, she demanded I work for her the second she heard I once worked for the president. The survivor and I get an apartment together. It's not big, but it's home. People look and whisper, but we couldn't care less. The government eventually manages to find a 'cure'. They keep talking about 'progress', but I don't see any difference. We can never escape, go outside after eleven at night, or drink anywhere. The government controls how much food we get, how much money we get, and put trackers in our skulls. It may not be the best life in the world, but we did the right thing. I never tell the survivor about all the lies I've told her, and we live happily with one another. No fights, arguments, problems, and the survivor is almost always all over me. It's the perfect relationship. It may not be the best life at times (giving up my freedoms and all), but it's mine. Besides, it could be worse. We could be dead.

_The End_

* * *

**Yellowknife**

I clear my throat, and tell her, "You just look really good naked.". She blushes, hits my shoulder, and says, "We should get going.". I nod, heave her into my arms, and leave. It takes a few weeks, but we reach Yellowknife in Canada. It's abandoned, the zombies frozen to the ground. We find a empty cabin in the woods near the town, the mountain man inside died of old age. We fortify the house, begin cultivating the ground, and manage to capture a few deer. After a few generations the beasts trust us, and we're able to treat them like cattle. We have to be careful we don't kill them all, interbreed them, or spook them away. But it's better than our garden, which barely scratches by. The survivor's leg heals up, I remove the stitches, and she's good as new. However, one winter hits us harder than most. When it's over we're both thin, we only have three domesticated deer, and our garden is gone. But we rebuild bigger and better (we actually make a decent garden and capture a few more deer). We take care of food, better improve the house whenever we can, and have sex any chance we get. As the years drag by my six pack slowly leaves me, my eyesight falters, and my aim with a gun becomes questionable at best. We both know I'm becoming old, but we don't say anything. I know one day I'll die, and I prepare the survivor for when that happens. I teach her where to bury me, how to gather food without me, and how to sleep with one eye open. But right now I'm still alive, and I enjoy each moment as much as I can.

_The End_

* * *

**Thank you all SO much for reading. This wasn't one of my favorites to write, but the last few chapters really had me excited. Sorry for the wait, and the fact this chapter is so long. I just sat at my computer and debated each ending, and eventually just came up with this. I hope you all enjoyed it and liked the multiple endings. -KhajiitWarriorSam**


End file.
